Too Much Heaven: The 9th Hunger Games
by 66samvr
Summary: "Nobody gets too much heaven no more. It's much harder to come by. I'm waiting in line."
1. The Beginning of a Problem

_Taurus Blackman, aged 41_  
 _Head Gamemaker_

* * *

There was something unnerving about seeing such a powerful man look so exhausted.

Sterling Aurum Snow was the most important man in Panem. The President. He was loved, admired, and feared. Those simple-minded Capitolites and the citizens of the districts...they all looked up to him and they saw him as nothing less than a god, worshiped him so.

Taurus had known Sterling for twenty-five years and he knew better.

Behind the cameras, Sterling was just a regular person. He could crack under enough pressure. When his imperfections were no longer hidden by makeup, Taurus could see the wrinkles and creases on his skin. His brilliant blond hair was growing grey at the roots. His suit was slightly disheveled, his tie slanted, and he was anxiously checking his watch when Taurus arrived at his office.

"You're late, Blackman."  
"Patience is a virtue, Snow. Besides, I was busy feeding my pets."

Sterling had no reply. That was a bit worrying. If the President was much too stressed to scold Taurus for keeping live animals in the Gamemaker offices, which were used as references for arena mutts, then he had to be stressed out by something else.  
"Taurus, sit down."

Taurus dropped into the swiveling chair in front of the President's desk. He shifted from side to side as Sterling sorted through some papers and handed one to Taurus. It was all wrinkled with one corner folded another and another one ripped off completely. It carried three simple words that at first glance, seemed like complete nonsense.

 _Spring is here._

Taurus frowned. "It's a threat. A threat to kill Snow, the President. You."  
"Of course it is."  
"Do you know who sent it?"

"It appeared in my mail last night." Sterling glanced at his watch. "I have my suspects...of course I can't just go around arresting my staff without any sort of solid proof."  
"I don't see why not." Taurus shrugged. "You're the President. You could make the arrests and turn it into an example. Execute the guilty ones and use the rest to show Panem what happens if they dare to defy the Capitol."

Sterling chuckled. It sounded forced. "Taurus, son, dear brother of mine...has ruling a country ever stopped someone from being stupid?"  
"Absolutely not...well, not in your case. You're a fairly intelligent leader-"

"These rebels have been a problem for almost two years now. We grow stronger, training military and Peacekeepers to defend our lands, but so do they. They know our tricks by now. It's become so easy for them to deliver messages and trade secrets under our noses. They're not afraid to take risks. Torture out all you want to know...there's always something they never did tell you. Besides, it's the dumb ones who get themselves caught. The intelligent ones, the leaders...oh, they are very hard to catch."

"James Lorein."

The name was out of Taurus's mouth before he even thought about it. Sterling simply nodded. Nothing had been proven that the lowly District 6 citizen who managed to escape one night was indeed the mastermind behind the rebel uprisings occurring across Panem, but it was very likely. Taurus had been there to witness the interrogation of James's husband, his friends, his family, the people he left behind in his hasty attempt to run for the hills. And if he could slip through their fingers one time, he could certainly do it again, with a little help from his friends.

"Panem is changing, Taurus. Panem changes all the time. Pretend all you want, but things change."  
"I am aware, sir."  
"The question is, how will we change? We can't prevent change, we can cause it, but we can't stop it. We can never have too much of one side or the other. We'll never have change that's all beneficial, or harmful. But we can have too much...and that's harmful. We must find a way to balance our change with everybody else's, to run that narrow middle path. We can't have too much hell. Or too much heaven."

"I'm changing Panem. You're changing Panem. The rebels are changing Panem."  
Sterling folded his hands on the desk. "Exactly."  
"But you want our change to overpower that of the rebels. So we move Panem in the direction we want it to go."  
Sterling nodded. "Precisely."

"How will we do that?"

"I'm thinking about sending in a spy."  
"A spy."  
"A spy. A puppet. We might be able to worm them in enough. Earn enough trust of those rebel leaders, and we might uncover something good. Or course, we have to be very careful. And we need to find the right person who knows how to make make their way to the top of the ladder without getting caught."

"It's a risky business. I hope you find someone stupid enough to do this for you."  
Sterling chuckled. "Good thing we're friends, Taurus, or I'd have your head for a comment like that."  
Taurus smoothed back his silky black hair. "You wish you could."

"Don't you have better things to do than to make a fool out of yourself in front of the President?"  
"Right." Taurus stood up. "I need to go through some resumes. One of my Gamemakers is on maternity leave."  
"Be careful, alright? We don't need another rebel right under our noses."

"I'll take care of it, sir. No need to worry about me."

* * *

 **Aw yeah, here we go! Another SYOT!**

 **This is my third full SYOT and is the sequel to OLS and RF; though reading those stories is not completely necessary, it will help and give you a better understanding of some of the featured characters.**

 **I will be using a Google Form to control to control the flow of submissions and to keep them all in one place. I will not be accepting submissions through PM or reviews. If you want to submit, the form link is up on my profile.**

 **Maximum three submissions per person. They can be for whichever slot you like; I also accept non-cis tributes. That being said, at least one submission MUST be a Bloodbath submission. Keep in mind that I do not kill off a tribute in the Bloodbath because they were submitted as one, but I'd like to have options.**

 **I will accept a tribute from another SYOT, only if the story has been abandoned (not updated in at least four months) deleted, or discontinued. If you want some more info on my resubmitted tribute guidelines, feel free to PM me.**

 **This is the 9th Hunger Games; almost all tributes should be REAPED. Career Academies do not exist in 1 or 4 and have only been around in 2 for less then two years. I will not accept Careers from 1 or 4 and if you do submit a Career from 2, keep in mind that would've only had about two years of training, so they're not the powerhouses from the 74th. If your tribute isn't a slightly trained Career from 2 and volunteering, then they better have a damned good reason.**

 **I would highly suggest not making your tribute related to a canon character. If you do want to go down this path, PM me and we'll work something out.**

 **I may open up escort submissions too! This depends on how much attention TMH gets.**

 **I don't have a set due date yet. I am willing to extend it to give people a longer period of time if they feel to need it.**

* * *

 **I'm super excited to start this! It's always a bit nerve-wracking to start an SYOT, but I think we're going to see a lot of great submissions. i can't wait!**

 **Hope you guys enjoyed the prologue! I'll see you all in the next chapter!**

 **-Vr**


	2. Snow-Peaked Mountains

**Just a reminder that submissions are still open! The form is up on my profile.**

* * *

 _Honouria Crass, 19_  
 _Victor of the 8th Hunger Games_

* * *

District 2 always looked beautiful in the wintertime.

There was something about the snow-covered mountains, so tall and intimidating and sturdy. Honouria admired the view from her little home in Victor's Village. At the same time, she could imagine the struggle for the workers who dug their way through the mineshafts cut into the mountain's surface.

Sure, it was cold and windy, and everyone seemed to be in a bad mood because of the weather, but Honouria couldn't care less. She missed everything about District 2. She missed the scenery, the people, even the sound of slush on the streets as it sloshed everywhere and all over her boots by the grumpy passerby. Honouria had just come back from her mandatory Victory Tour, in which she was dolled up and paraded around the districts, claiming to be sorry for this, sorry for that.

Thirteen days had never lasted so long and every passing minute felt like entirety as Honouria stared at face after face, the families of her victims becoming a single blur. Then, in the Capitol, she had never eaten so much fancy food, then she was constantly pulled to her feet and danced about, until she was on the verge of throwing up. In District 2, that wasn't going to happen. In District 2, she was going to live a happy life in Victor's Village with the man of her dreams. She wasn't going to think about her Games, or her tour, at all.

So that was why Honouria stared at the snow as if she was in a trance, despite all the unpleasant things that came with the dreaded winter.

Honouria's fiance, Jupiter, saw a lot of things unpleasant with the season. "Ugh, it snowed again last night!?"  
"Yep. Blizzard."  
Jupiter grimaced as he came up behind Honouria and kissed her on the cheek. "I still have to go to work, you know."

"Oh, you do?" Honouria giggled. "What a shame...it's a great day to stay home."  
"And do what?"  
Honouria wriggled her way under Jupiter's arm and wrapped his hands around her. "How about nothing? We can just cuddle."

"I'd love to cuddle," Jupiter said, pushing back his miner's helmet on his forehead. "But not like this. Maybe under a big, fuzzy blanket?"  
"With hot chocolate and homemade cookies!"  
"Now you're speaking my language!" Jupiter purred as Honouria buried her face under his neck. "You see, this is why I love you."

"Same goes."  
"Now let go. It's time for breakfast, then I have to go to work."

"You sure you don't get a day off?" Honouria asked, rummaging through the cupboards while Jupiter toasted some bread. "It's so cold outside. The streets got iced over. And wouldn't all that snow pose some sort of safety hazard?"  
"I don't know. But the big guys hate giving everyone days off."

Honouria passed Jupiter a jar of jam, then started working on brewing a pot of coffee. "Claymore even called off training classes for today. And the Academy's within walking distance of us. That's how cold it is."  
"You think one of the Peacekeepers owns a snow plow or something?"  
"I wish."

Jupiter polished off the last of his toast. Honouria passed over a thermos filled with freshly brewed coffee, then accompanied him to the door. As soon as Jupiter opened it, the wall of snow caved in, falling onto their feet. Honouria shivered as the cold winter air blew inside. She could see Claymore Regans all bundled up, gritting his teeth as he tried to shovel a clear pathway and slid around on his icy porch.

"Hey babe?"  
"Yeah?"  
"Do you _still_ have to work?"

"I..." Jupiter gently shut the door. "I think I'll stay inside today."  
Honouria grabbed her fiance's hand and pulled him along with her.

"What are you doing now?"  
"If you're staying home, let's make the most of it." Honouria led Jupiter to the living room. "Come on, then! Let's cuddle!"

* * *

 _Claymore Regans, 23_  
 _Victor of the 3rd Hunger Games_

* * *

Most people, most _sane_ people, would not have bothered to shovel the snow. Instead, they camped out inside their homes and waited for spring thaw.  
Maybe Claymore had been looking for a challenge. Or maybe his brain cells were as frozen as the rest of him. Because if he was thinking straight, he would have not agreed to shoveling the huge, frozen driveways that came with each of the mansions in Victor's Village.

In the doorway, Vanessa cackled to herself. She was holding a mug of hot chocolate and still dressed in her fluffy pink robe, but it was more to spite Claymore than it was to keep warm. Though he wouldn't mind switching places with her, even if it came with ridiculously small bunny slippers.

"You missed a spot."  
"I'll get in a second."  
"Better hope the snow doesn't cover it while you're over there!"

Claymore heaved the shovel over his shoulder. "Gee, I never thought about that! Do you want to come out here and do this with me!?"  
"And freeze my ass off? Not a chance."  
"Can I at least have some hot chocolate?"

Vanessa headed back inside. Good. If she was just going to taunt him, Claymore would rather not see his wife again today, until she had a hot mug just for him. When he heard the front door open again, he flung the shovel upwards, spilling bits of snow all over the porch. "Come to laugh at my predicament?"

"No...but don't tempt me."  
Claymore shook the snow from his hair. "Oh, hey Arch. Care to join me?"

Archer Regans chuckled. Behind him was Claymore's teenage nephew, Isaac. "No, I'm good. Unlike you, I do not have a wish to freeze to death."  
"I was outnumbered three to one."

"But four hands are better than two..." Archer clamped a hand down on Isaac's shoulder. "And since you don't have school today..."  
"Come on, Dad!"  
"Why don't you help your uncle shovel the driveway? Trust me, it will go by a lot faster."

Soon, Isaac had a shovel in his hands. Claymore decided to hide his amusement. "Ah, cheer up kid. You get to spend time with your favourite uncle!"  
"You're my only uncle."  
"Am I not the favourite?"

"Shut up."

Claymore smirked. "Oh, all right. but when we get back to the Academy, you promise you won't slack off on your training? Good Peacekeepers always stay up-to-date with their work."  
"I'm not slacking off."  
"Sure thing, buddy."

Isaac put down his shovel. "Uncle Claymore, what if I don't want to become a Peacekeeper?"  
"Who said you had to become a Peacekeeper?"  
"Nobody..." Isaac gave an awkward shrug. "But I just don't want to. I don't think...it's something I'd like to do. I mean, I'm grateful for the training, but if I had to decide what I want to be when I grow up...y'know!"

"I get it, kid." Claymore heaved another round of snow over his shoulder, then proceeded to try and stab at the ice covering the driveway. "And don't worry too much, alright? You're only thirteen; you've got time to figure things out. But you know why I put you into Peacekeeper training and why I think you should continue it."  
"The Games?"

"The. _Hunger. Games_." Claymore put emphasis on the last two words. "But I did so as a precaution, not to encourage you. You see those people who abuse my Academy and my materials and then jump at the chance to volunteer, just because they've done two years of training? Remember what I've taught you about your odds in the arena and how many tributes form 2 have actually won?"  
"But Honouria volunteered and she won."

"But you're not Honouria." Claymore finally broke through the ice. "You're _Isaac_. My nephew. And I want to keep you safe. Because God forbid I let anything happen to you."  
A goofy smile broke out onto Isaac's face. "Yeah, I get it. Okay, I promise."  
"You promise what to whom?"

"I promise to my uncle, Claymore Regans, that I will never volunteer for the Hunger Games."

"Good." Claymore reached out and gave Isaac's shoulder a shake. "Now, back to work. No slacking off on the job!"  
"Boys! I've got drinks!"

Isaac had just reclaimed his shovel, and he dropped it again, in favour of running up the porch for a cup of hot chocolate. "Yeah, well shoveling can wait. Come on, Uncle!"  
"I'm coming!" Claymore took the mug from his wife, before she slammed the door in his face, leaving him outside in the cold. The snow began to fall. Claymroe could faintly hear the rest of his family laughing hysterically. Clearly, he was not allowed inside until he finished shoveling the driveway.

At least he had hot chocolate.

* * *

 **Still collecting submissions for TMH. I like what I see so far, since age and gender have been fairly even, which is good. That being said, I think I have enough to the point where I can finalize the due date for submissions. This due date may be extended if the majority feel it's not enough time.**

 **Too Much Heaven's submissions due date: March 31st.**

 **I hope that's enough time for everyone, but if you need an extension, PM me and we'll work something out. I hope you enjoyed the prologue and meeting some of the Victors (because I love my Victors; half of them are walking disasters) and we'll get ot meet others in the next prologue!**

 **-Vr**


	3. Mightier Than The Sword

**Thanks for all the submissions I received! I'm so glad to finally announce that I've put together my tribute list for Too Much Heaven! It can be found down below and on my profile!**

* * *

 _Alexander Snow, 16_  
 _Son of President Sterling Snow_

* * *

The Victory Tour was still in full swing. All televisions had been turned on, every single eye in the Capitol glued to the screen as young Honouria Crass waved her arm and said her speeches. Everyone wanted a glimpse of the newest Victor. And why not? Victors were a huge deal in Panem.

Personally, Alexander Snow couldn't care less.

He only showed up to Honouria's Capitol speech with his favourite notebook hidden under his coat. once he was clear his father wasn't watching, he pulled down the notebook and scrawled down as much as he could. This would be good stuff for a future novel. Alexander wanted to write about his own fictional Hunger games, complete with a made-up victor. Honouria had given a pretty convincing speech; hopefully, she wouldn't mind if Alexander borrowed from it. But he could always change up the words so it wouldn't look like he was plagiarizing.

There was a party going on, with all these special and important guests dancing around in President Snow's giant ballroom. A party for the victor. Alexander's older siblings, Zachariah and Theodora, had been allowed to attend, but not him and not his younger brother Coriolanus. While Coriolanus had complained about that, Alexander simply nodded and ran off to his room.

He locked the door, then jumped into bed with his notebook. Alexander grabbed a pencil and scrawled away in his slanted, messy handwriting. Eventually, he had filled up several pages and had stopped because his hand was cramping up. The whole time, Alexander kept his phone beside him on his desk.

As he soothed his aching hand, Alexander paced in circles around his room. What was taking the publisher so long? Why was it so hard to find them in the Capitol? Did they not think his story was good enough? It wasn't that bad; he spent a week proofreading it, so there was no way he could've missed anything.

"Come on," Alexander muttered to himself as he scrolled through his phone, in case he had missed any calls. "Please talk to me."

Nothing.

He waited for a few minutes, then picked up the phone again.

Still nothing.

At this point, he was starting to get a little annoyed.

Alexander groaned and flopped back onto his bed. He picked up the pencil and continued on with his story, but at a slower pace. Right as he got the the part where the main protagonist was about to launch into the arena, the phone rang. Alexander practically tumbled off his bed as he reached for the phone. His heart was pounding so hard, it could burst from his chest at any moment.

"Hello!?"  
"Is this Elliot Jay Coin?"

That was him. that was the pseudonym he was writing under. "Yes, yes! I'm Elliot Jay Coin! That's me!"  
"Mister Coin, care to explain what you are doing in the President's mansion?"

"Um..." Alexander's face burned. How was he supposed to explain this one? "Well, sir...as you know...the Victory Tour is at its final stop in the Capitol...and I was invited to the party. Yeah! Yeah, I'm at the party right now. At the President's mansion."

"You sound awfully young to be attending such an adult event."  
"I assure you, I just sound young for my age."  
"How old are you, Mister Coin?"

There was a knock at the door. "Alexander, what are you doing?"  
"In a minute!" Alexander yelled, covering the phone receiver. He then turned his attention back to the call. "Um...my age isn't really that important-"  
"Mister Coin..."

"Alexander!"  
"I'm busy!" Alexander pressed himself against the door, ignoring the person on the other side. "Okay, fine! I admit, I'm actually 18. But I sound much younger on the phone."  
"Alexander, let me in!"  
"Are you sure you are 18? because if you're any younger, we will not be able to work out a contract without permissions from a parent or guardian. Mister Coin, please understand that this is a serious business and I have actual clients to get to, without you wasting my time with this call."

"But what about my story!?" Alexander begged. He was met with silence. The publisher had hung up on him. He sighed and opened the door as Coriolanus fell in. "Who were you talking to?"  
"Nobody."  
"Was it your girlfriend?"

"Ew!" Alexander made a face. "Why would I wanna waste my time dating someone?"  
"So that wasn't your girlfriend?"

"Nah. Bachelor life all the way, baby!"  
Coriolanus looked confused. "What's a bachelor?"

"I'll tell you later." Alexander began shoving his younger brother out the door. "Now get out. I'm busy right now."  
"But I have something to tell you!"  
"I said I'm busy!"

"But it's important!" Coriolanus grabbed onto the door frame; he wouldn't budge, no matter how hard Alexander pushed him. "It's from Daddy!"  
"Fine. Hurry up and tell me!"

"He says we have to go downstairs and be polite and talk to everyone. And the Victor."  
"Ugh." Alexander rolled his eyes. "Can it wait? I have things to do!"  
"He says we have to go now."

"Boys!" President Snow's voice echoed from the stairs. "Come down, please!"  
"Let's go!" Coriolanus ran off. Alexander just shot his notebook one last longing look, before following his brother downstairs and into the crowd of people.

* * *

 **Just a smaller chapter to introduce us to some reoccurring characters from RF and OLS. You might be familiar with the President's youngest children, Alexander and Coriolanus.**

 **So here's the tribute list. I had to narrow 32 submissions down to 24, which wasn't an easy task. I suggest you look carefully, as some tributes did not end up with their original spots and have been moved to a different district.**

* * *

 **D1M:** Stravos Brodie, 16 (spaceMars)  
 **D1F:** Elise Starbright, 16 (LiveFreeorDie)

 **D2M:** Toren Kollath, 17 (its-suzuka)  
 **D2F:** Bellona Peirce, 16 (Professor R. J. Lupin1)

 **D3M:** Gear Griswald, 12 (districtfours)  
 **D3F:** Astrid Balan, 15 (etherealepiphany)

 **D4M:** OPEN  
 **D4F:** Adella "Dell" Kerrick, 16 (MessyModgePodge)

 **D5M:** Corbyn Reid, 16 (S. H. Reke)  
 **D5F:** Amelia Williams, 13 (TheLostTimeLady)

 **D6M** : Charles Thompson, 16 (TheReaper94)  
 **D6F** : Zilla Odbody, 16 (LordShiro)

 **D7M** : Veles Dragomir, 17 (Sparky She-Demon)  
 **D7F** : Darra Delaney, 17 (recklessinparadise)

 **D8M** : Twill Chint, 16 (SilverFlowerxRavenpaw)  
 **D8F** : Claodis Omicron, 15 (Platrium)

 **D9M** : Cleveland "Cleve" Garfield, 13 ( 20)  
 **D9F** : Lily Baudilair, 15 (abcdefghijklmnopqrstvwxyz05)

 **D10M:** Red Bellmont, 15 (districtfours)  
 **D10F:** Argen DeAquilla, 18 (spaceMars)

 **D11M** : Weller Worthen, 18 ( 20)  
 **D11F** : Acacia Hazeldine, 14 ( )

 **D12M** : Stryker Ember, 15 (goldie031)  
 **D12F** : Clair Ivory, 17 (its-suzuka)

* * *

 **You might notice that we only have 23 tributes instead of 24. Unfortunately, I didn't get enough submission for the D4M, so I have decided to open up the spot for everybody to submit to! The form link is on my profile, and you are all welcome to submit a tribute to the spot. I will close submissions on May 13th, then pick my D4M. Happy submitting!**

 **If you have any questions as to why a certain tribute was picked, why your tribute was moved to a different spot, or why a submission fell through, fell free to PM me or chat with me on Discord. I can send you a copy of your form if your tribute wasn't picked and you'd like to resubmit them elsewhere, though please ask for it by May 20th. All non-selected forms will be deleted after that.**

 **After this, I will start with the Reapings, but keep in mind there will likely be a wait between updates, as I'm finishing up OLS and I want to get the Victor out before I continue with this story, in order to prevent spoilers.**

 **Thanks for all your participation and I'll see you later with the Reapings!**

 **-Vr**


	4. District 5: Ups And Downs

**Finally, the first TMH Reaping! I've decided to change up the format a bit from how I wrote them in OLS. The formatting just makes it easier and less cluttered.  
**

* * *

 _Corbyn Reid, 16_  
 _District 5 Male_

* * *

 _Two years, two months before the Reaping_

Term marks were finally out.

Corbyn scanned his sheet of paper, up and down, left and right. High 80s, low 90s. He smiled to himself; yep, there was a definite improvement. The lowest mark was probably his math mark, but even so, that was only an 73. Corbyn was never big on that subject anyways; so many formulas and guidelines that just _had_ to be done correct. No room for creativity or exploration. No room for him to really shows his own ways and methods, however out-of-the-ordinary they ended up.

Sometimes, Corbyn thought, guidelines were _stupid._

He was still pretty proud of himself, though.

After school was over, he met up with Linda, and they both walked home together. Linda clutched her paper tight to her chest. Unlike Corbyn, she wasn't as happy with her marks. "I got a 54 in Math, and 66 in Panemanian History, and a 57 in my electrical course! My parents are going to kill me!"  
"The electrical stuff is easy. I'm kinda surprised."

Linda glared at him. "You are not helping."  
"If you want, I'll help you study."

"No offense Corbyn, but you always go overboard when we study together. Like, you come up with all these crazy, elaborate explanations, but all you really need is to just say how you got from here to there. I talked to Mrs. Monroe about it and she said that as long as I can clearly explain my process, then I'll get full marks. Sometimes, the reason you get to low in math is because you don't really show how you got your answers."

"But I hate using all the formulas. Sometimes, my explanations are easier." Corbyn glanced back down at his marks. "Well...now that I think about it..."  
"Hey, I'm just saying! Oh by the way, Cam's having a party this weekend and he said you could come if you wanted. I'm going."

"Ugh," Corbyn sighed. "I think I'll pass."  
"Come on, it's gonna be fun! When was the last time you left the house?"  
"I'm not a party person. And you just wanna go because you know Axel will be there."  
"That's not true!"

"Well, I need to leave. I'll think about it." Corbyn folded up his marks and shoved the paper into his pocket. "I'll see you at school tomorrow."  
"Okay! Bye Corbyn!"

Both Corbyn's brother and sister were home when he arrived. He simply dropped off his marks on the kitchen table, then headed upstairs. In his bedroom, he opened up a textbook and started on his homework. About an hour later, he was almost done when he heard a knock on his door.

Helios Reid was standing in the doorway there, smiling. "I see someone's report card came home today?"  
"Yeah, they always come out at this time."  
"Well, I haven't seen Leslie's yet. Suspicious." Helios gave the page a quick glance. "Good job, son! I'm really proud of you."

"Thanks, Dad." Corbyn turned his attention back to his textbook.  
"I heard from a colleague at lunch that there's a new ice cream parlor opening across town tonight. I'm thinking that we can go check it out after dinner. Sound good?"

Corbyn shrugged. He wasn't too interested in the idea, especially if it involved having to go halfway across the District just for a scoop of ice cream. "Meh. Sure, I guess."  
"Alright! I'll ask your siblings if they want to come. And I think your mother's home."

Slamming his textbook shut, Corbyn slumped down the stairs. Susan Reid was busy slipping off her shoes and jacket, looking very frazzled. "Hey Mom-"  
"Corbyn, give me a second! I just got home! Learn some patience!"

Corbyn quickly backed away. What was his mother so upset at? he didn't ask as she stormed past him off to the kitchen. "Helios, did you start dinner like I asked?"  
"In a second, honey."  
"Ugh, do I have to do everything around this house!?"

Susan groaned and headed off. Corbyn just watched her leave, then slipped back up to his room. Maybe it would be best to stay out of the way. Plus, he had the rest of his homework to do.

Half an hour later, he was called down for dinner. Most of the tension seemed to have melted away as the family ate in silence. Finally, his mother spoke up. "I see report cards have come home. Matt, well done. Leslie...your teachers have mentioned something about slacking off. Corbyn, excellent work. I noticed your math mark-"

"I'm getting the right answers, Mom. Mrs. Monroe just doesn't get my process! Hers doesn't make any sense."  
"If you want Corbyn, I can help you. If you need any help, just show me your homework. We can sit down and go through everything after dinner tonight. Do you want me to do that?"

Corbyn hesitated. He wanted to tell his mother that he didn't want help, he was fine and he understood what to do. But what if his unconventional methods turned out to be wrong?  
"Sure, Mom. We can look through my homework."

Susan gave him a warm smile. Corbyn just went back to eating his food. Once he was done, he headed up to his room to finish off the last of his work, before his father knocked on his door, telling him that they were about the leave for the ice cream parlor.

* * *

 _Amelia Williams, 13_  
 _District 5 Female_

* * *

 _Two years, five months before the Reaping_

Bipolar.

That was what the doctor called her. Bipolar. She didn't react at all. Her mother just nodded with tears rolling down her cheeks, and her older brother choked back a sob as he reached out to grab Amelia's hands. Amelia just stared at the clipboard containing her diagnosis, full of big typed-up words and the doctor's sloppy scrawl.

The journey home was a quiet one. Nobody really said anything. What was Amelia supposed to do? She wanted to laugh in her mother's face, for constantly doubting that her sweet little girl was so normal and perfect. She wanted to sneer at Damon, knowing that he'd never receive as much attention from their mother as she would.

But she kept silent.

In a way, it explained everything. How an 11 year-old girl could have such sudden and violent mood swings. How sometimes, she wanted to kiss her family and tell them how much she loved everything about life, and other times, she just wanted to destroy everyone and everything in her path, then turn on herself.

Some days were good days. Those were the days when Amelia was grateful for everything her family did for her, and she could never stop smiling. She didn't want to think about her other side; she just wanted to be happy and make others happy. She wanted to be the nice, sweet, innocent little baby everybody saw her as.

Once they got home, Amelia decided to retreat to her room. She laid on her bed for a bit in silence, until she heard her mother yelling her name. After a few minutes, she finally made her way downstairs, taking as much time as possible.

Dinner consisted of small bowls of lukewarm broth, and lumpy, grainy bread made from the tessarae Damon had been collecting. It was probably the largest meal they had all week, and Amelia didn't realize how hungry she was until she slurping the broth down and ripping chunks of bread apart.

Claire Williams just watched her daughter eat. "Amelia, if you don't mind, tomorrow, I'm going out to see if we can find some medicine to help you. I know we might have to stretch money a little more now, but I want you to feel comfortable-"

Yep, that was exactly what they needed right now. Claire's meager factory paycheck drawn out to the point it had stretch marks, just to cover some shitty, tasteless, overpriced pills that young Amelia knew would never work.

"What's the point?" she asked her mother. "It's not gonna work."  
"We won't know unless we try, honey."

"You can't fix me. I'm a freak."

Amelia knew she sounded like an ungrateful brat and her tone was much harsher than she intended but right now, she didn't care. Claire gasped, just staring at her daughter in shock. "No, no, no...Amelia, you're not a freak. Being bipolar doesn't make you a freak. It makes you...special...and unique...but you're not a freak!"

"Shut up." Amelia blinked back tears. Was she really going to cry over this? How pathetic. Normal people didn't cry. "Yes I am."

She felt someone nudge her. It was Damon. He gently rubbed at her shoulder, something that used to calm her down when she was little. She used to love it. This time, it didn't work. She wanted to push his arm away, then scream at him to leave her alone. She didn't want his pity. She didn't deserve pity. She didn't deserve the way people felt sorry for her.

She didn't deserve anything.

Amelia recoiled from her older brother's touch. He reached for her again, but Claire just shook her head and mouthed to him, _Leave her be_. Damon nodded and backed off a little, which was what Amelia wanted. She got up, shoved her chair away, then ran off to her slowly moved her door in order to make as little noise as possible, then gave up and slammed it shut. Loudly.

Flopping backwards onto her bed, Amelia just stared up at the ceiling. Life would've been so much better if she was someone else. Some other eleven-year old with a normal life and a normal family. Hell, she just wanted to be a normal kid.

Was that too much to ask for?

The minute slowly ticked by, each one felt like an hour. Amelia's tears had subsided somewhat, but she felt no urge to leave her bed. She rolled over onto her side and just stared at the wall. She felt exhausted. But maybe the episode was over?

There was a knock at the door.

"Amelia...honey?"

Amelia didn't say anything. She didn't really want to face her mother right now. She didn't believe that sweet voice for one second. Claire was going to yell at her, wasn't she? Amelia didn't want to be yelled at. She just wanted to be alone.

"If you want, you can always talk to me, okay? I'm here for you. You're my only daughter and I want you to be happy. We'll get through this together. I brought you some dinner, if you're still hungry" There was a quick pause, then Amelia heard the sound of something being placed on the floor.

Then she heard her mother's footsteps retreat. Amelia waited for a few minutes, then slowly opened up her bedroom door. Nobody was there. She snatched up the small bowl, careful not to spill it, then quickly closed the door behind her.

* * *

 **So now that I'm almost done OLS, with my (spoilers) Victor revealed, I have shifted my focus to getting the the TMH Reapings done! And here's our first pair up. What did you think of them? Do you like one more than the other?**

 **District 6 will be next up! I'm aiming to have it up by the end of July!**

 **-Vr**


	5. District 6: Funerals and Homecomings

**Finally, the next Reaping is up!**

* * *

 _Zilla Odbody, 16_  
 _District 6 Female_

* * *

 _Eleven months before the Reaping_

She was completely out of place.

First off, unlike everyone else, Zilla showed up in a white blouse and grey slacks, cinched with a bright red belt. She did have an array of darker clothes to choose from, and she knew her mother had asked her to wear something more appropriate, but she didn't get what was so important. Clothes were simply not the rage anyone made them out to be. And Zilla never put much thought into her outfits anyways. They were always so plain and dull.

She also didn't understand whose idea it was to put the body on display like that. He just didn't look anything like his dead self, dressed in an expensive suit, with a face pumped full of god-knows-what. Were corpses supposed to look like that? So waxy? So lifelike? She waited for the moment when her father would sit up and spread out his arms so she could run into them.

She missed him so much.

Everyone else was crying, and Zilla wanted to cry too.

But she didn't.

Instead, she huddled in a corner of the room and watched everything unfold.

Why did everyone look so sad? The passing of her father was devastating enough already. Zilla didn't need a bunch of strangers and distant relatives crowded into this stuffy room, bawling their eyes out. She didn't want to put up with the number of adults who approached her, shaking her hand and patting her on the shoulder. They were sorry about the loss, they missed her father, he was a great man, he was in a better place now, blah blah blah. Zilla knew all of this already. She wanted to be left alone, to grieve in her own way.

And deep deep down, she was grieving. She was upset, even if it didn't seem like it. She knew things would never be the same ever again.

"Zilla?"

Zilla looked up as her mother grabbed her hand and led her to her seat. "There you are honey. Come on, it's about to start."

The ceremony was long and boring. All these people she didn't care for, giving these speeches she didn't want to hear. Zilla tuned most of it out, especially because to her, it felt so redundant. Igor Odbody was a good person. Igor Odbody was a smart man. Igor Odbody was a loving father. Igor Odbody was amazing in so many ways.

Igor Odbody was _dead._

Zilla was there when they lowered him into the ground, never to be seen again.

She missed him.

She wasn't ready to say goodbye.

But it didn't show on her face.

She stood there.

Stone.

Cold.

Emotionless.

She followed her mother and younger sister home. Statika put an arm around both of her daughters, but Koia kept glaring at Zilla from the corner of her eye. There was nobody else with them. Good. Zilla was just glad the funeral was finally over. She was not in the mood for any more people crowding around her.

At home, Statika brewed some tea and they all sat, holding their cups. There were enough seats were four people. Only three were filled.  
Zilla folded her hands neatly on her lap. Across from her, Koia crossed her arms and scowled. He cheeks were stained with tears.

After a few minutes, it became annoying. "Can I help you?" Zilla asked her sister.  
"He's never coming back."  
"I know."

"Do you, Zilla?" Koia hissed. "Because it seems like you don't care. Dad's dead, and you don't care! How are you not sad?"

Koia's words cut like a knife. Zilla just sat there, frozen. "I...but I do care. I do care a lot. I just don't get why we all have to be so sad."  
"Because he's dead! You think we're actually happy he's dead!?"  
Stakita gave her youngest daughter a glance. "Koia..."

"You're just emotional right now," Zilla aid bluntly.  
"Yeah, I'm emotional! I just lost my father! Why wouldn't I be emotional!? Do you have a problem with that!?"  
"Well...you're kinda irrational right now. And you're putting all these words in my mouth."

"ARGH!" Koia screamed, slamming her hands down on the arm of the chair. "IDIOT! YOU'RE AN I-IDIOT! You idiot! He's gone! H-He's dead and you didn't even sh-shed a single tear! You don't a-actually care about us, you d-don't even care about anyone! You only care about yourself! You act like you're above me all the time because you're a robot and you can't express any sympathy for anyone!"

 _"What is wrong with you!?"_

Zilla was at a loss for words. She opened her mouth to speak, but no sounds came out. She tried to say something to prove that she did care, but she suddenly choked up. A single tear spilled down her cheek. Koia stomped off, sobbing into her hands.

She didn't know what she had done to send her sister over the edge. She didn't know what was wrong with her. She wished she had an answer, the perfect answer, one that would heal her sister and revive her father and fix Zilla so she'd become a normal girl.

She came up with nothing.

She saw her mother slowly stand up, before siting down next to her and giving her a hug. Zilla stood rigid and Stakita wrapped her arms around her. She wasn't in the mood for a after everything Koia just told her.

 _Something's wrong._

"It's okay, honey." Stakita whispered. "It's okay. She didn't mean all of that."

"I'm normal, right?" Zilla asked her mother.  
"Of course! You have nothing to be ashamed of! I know you miss him just as much as the rest of us do, you just have a different way of showing it."  
"So, you think there's nothing wrong with me?"

"There's nothing wrong with you, sweetheart."

For some reason, Zilla didn't believe her.

* * *

 _Charles Thomson, 16_  
 _District 6 Male_

* * *

 _Three weeks before the Reaping_

"Mr. Thomson?"  
"Huh?" Charles glanced up from the book he was reading.

"Time to go home," the librarian told him as she began stacking up chairs. Sure enough, all the lights had been turned off. Charles hadn't even noticed. He had been doing research for a school projects on toxins and he had lost track of time. "I've got to close up now."

"Do you mind if I take this book with me?"  
"As long as you return it on time."

Charles nodded, gathered all his stuff, and left the library. He was glad that the Sun now stayed out longer and he wasn't trying to find his way home in the dark. When he did get home, there was a 10 year-old boy with his arms crossed waiting impatiently at the door.

"Hey Ed. What's up?"  
"Where were you?"  
"At the library."

Charles showed Eddie the book; his brother just rolled his eyes. "Boring!"  
"Aw come on, toxicology is fun!"

"Just exactly what we need," Randall Thomson said loudly, strolling into the room. "A poison master. Don't get any ideas, either of you."  
"We won't!" Eddie protested.  
"No poisoning the water supply, okay? Or giving out cyanide-filled cookies to the Peacekeepers. Or chasing people around with needles. Or-"

"Okay okay, we get it, dad!" Charles said, the palm of his hand hitting his forehead. "We're not gonna do anything illegal!"  
"Well, how am I supposed to know that?"  
"Boys! Dinner!"

Charles noticed that the dinner table had been set for five, instead of four. "What's going on?" he asked his mother.  
"Maria's coming over for a visit tonight. She'll be eating dinner with us."  
"About time!" Eddie interrupted. "She's been ignoring us for forever!"  
"No, she hasn't," Charles told him. "She's just busy. We all get busy sometimes."

"Oh yeah..." Eddie frowned. "But still. It's just not the same."  
"I know, kid. I know."

The second Charles and Eddie sat down, there was a sharp knock on the door. The two brother were tripping over each as they raced to answer it, and Eddie managed to get there first. Sure enough, there was Maria Thomson, Charles's sister, waiting on the other end.  
"Maria!" Eddie beamed. "You're here!"

"Hi boys! Hey Eddie!"  
"What took you so long!?" Eddie demanded. "I haven't seen you in like, years!"  
Maria laughed. "But it's only been a month."  
"That's too long!"

"Okay, Eddie run along now," Maria told him, giving Eddie a little push out of the way. "Hi Charles."  
"Hey. What's up?" Charles asked.  
"Eh, you know. Work's been busy. Rushing around all the time, never catching a break. How about you?"

Charles just shrugged. "I've got a bunch of projects coming up, now that it's the end of the school year."  
"Oh, that sounds fun."  
"What, the projects?"  
"No, the end of the school year."

Charles snickered. "Yeah, unlike you, I get two months to do nothing but lie around and be lazy. Nope, you've got work. Welcome to adulthood."  
"Ugh, _responsibilities_." Maris smacked him on the arm. "Lucky, lucky, lucky, you teenagers. What are you learning about?"

"Toxicology!" Charles's eyes sparkled. "All the fun stuff too!"  
"You're not gonna go out and make a bunch of gas bombs, are you?"  
"No! Why does everyone assume just because I'm learning toxicology I'm gonna try and do something illegal?"

"Because you don't seem like a likely suspect. By the way, my roommate knows how to dissolve a body, if you ever need to go to her."  
"Why on earth does she- actually, forget it. I don't wanna know."  
Maria just shrugged, as if this conversation was a daily occurrence for her. "Hey, you never know when skills like these come in handy."

It was Charles's turn to wack his sister's arm. "I'd move out if I were you."  
"Rent is suspiciously cheap. It's the quiet ones we have to watch out for."  
"Be afraid. Be very afraid."

"Maria! Charles! Come eat!"

Maria pumped her fist into the air. "A hot meal, just for me? And it's homemade food! At last! I'll be eating like a queen tonight."  
"What do you mean 'at last'? What have you been eating for the past month?"  
"Whatever I could afford. I'm not proud of most of it..."

Charles just burst out laughing. "Ew, Maria! What the hell? We can't leave you by yourself, can we?"

"I'm just kidding! But it feels good to be home."

Charles nodded as his big sister hugged him. "It's nice to see you again. Hey, do you wanna see the toxins project I've been working? It's really cool; you'll like it!"  
"Sure thing. I'll check it out after dinner, okay? I'm starving!"

"That's fair," Charles said, following Maria off to the kitchen.

* * *

 **So, that was the D6 pair! What do you think of them? Do you like them both?**

 **Now that OLS is almost done and the Victor has been revealed, I'm going to start updating this story more frequently, since I can do so withhold fear of spoiling the OLS Victor. My big focus is getting all the Reapings done, since they're kinda tedious. But at least the new format I'm using makes it a little less repetitive.**

 **Next up is the D7 Reaping! I've got a pattern this time; I'm not doing districts at random. I'm following a set order. Any guesses?**

 **Hope you all enjoyed this chapter!**

 **-Vr**


	6. District 7: Murder and Slaughter

_Veles Dragomir, 17_  
 _District 7 Male_

* * *

 _One year and seven months before the Reaping_

The increased peacekeeper force in District 7 was sudden. It practically happened overnight; the next morning, Veles awoke to hundreds of those pristine white uniforms everywhere. There were many guesses as to why all these Peacekeepers were strolling around the district with guns in their hands, but nobody bothered to explain anything. After all, why would the Capitol want to speak with the district as if they were on the same level?

Veles guessed it had something to do with the 7th Hunger Games. After all, a lot of things in the district had to do with what happened in the 7th Hunger Games.

"Maybe it's a good thing?" Perun asked at breakfast. "With all those Peacekeepers around, nobody's gonna try to do anything to us. That's good, right?"  
Harrion shrugged as he poured himself a cup of coffee. "When there's rules, there's always someone to break them."  
Veles shook his head. "People will have to get craftier with the way they hide dead bodies now."

"You're still not over it, are you?" Harrison asked, sipping his coffee. "Veles, I know it's only been a month-"  
"And when I find that bastard, I'm gonna beat him to death."  
"We have no proof it was a guy," Perun spoke up. "What if it was a girl?"

Veles sighed. "I don't care who they are. I want them dead."

"Do you think the Peacekeepers will help us?" Perun asked Harrion, who just shook his head. ''At least one of them would have to be on our side."  
"I wish, kiddo. But there's just too many risks. They might try to apprehend us instead and we just can't betray the guild like that."  
Perun shrugged. "Well, we're not gonna do anything with them around. They can't arrest us if they have no proof."

Veles tapped his fingers against the table. "What if one of them did it?"  
"You think so?"

''Why not?" Veles pointed at the window. "They're practically untouchable. Nobody's gonna question the authority of a Peacekeeper. And they've got an excuse too."  
Harrion scoffed. "This isn't the Hunger Games. You just can't go around murdering people nilly-willy, even if you've got a cool uniform."

"Which brings me to my next point. The Peacekeepers are roaming around here because 7 isn't happy over what happened in the arena, so if anyone steps out of line, they've got the excuse to kill. Can just brush the dead guy off as an unruly rebel. She was a defenseless little kid, what was stopping them from gunning down her? Who would believe her side of the story? Why would you question a Peacekeeper?"

"So you think they did it," Perun said quietly.  
Veles glanced over at his little brother. He was completely emotionless. They had been through so much together and they didn't have any other family left. This meant as much to Perun as it did to him. They wanted to avenge her. Both of them.

"If you two are done plotting a potential homicide, I need you to deliver some messages," Harrion told them as he scraped his fork across his plate. "I'm ceasing all guild activity today."  
"Good." Veles got up from his chair. "Because I can't stay in here all day."  
"And please leave the Peacekeepers alone! I am not in the mood to cover either of your hides! You can solve your little murder mystery later."

"If only it was that easy," Veles scoffed as he stomped outside. Perun followed him. "If only it was just a little game."  
"He's right, Veles. We shouldn't anger anybody now."  
"I know, okay? And I don't plan to."

The streets were eerily empty. As the Peacekeepers marched, many houses had their front doors locked and their curtains drawn. Some people were opening up their shops, but worked as quickly and hastily as possible. They kept their eyes to the ground and nobody said a word.

With all the tensions in District 7, pissing off a Peacekeeper was practically a death sentence.

Veles hurried along, pulling Perun with him. They were very careful to avoid bumping into anyone sporting that dreadful white uniform. Veles had no intentions of letting his guard down, not when surrounded by people he didn't trust. He only trusted his little brother and that was it.

Finally, they reached the guild's meeting place. Unsurprisingly, it was pretty empty. But Veles and Perun joined the little group of thieves sitting in the centre. One of them produced a loaf of bread, which sh tore off large chunks to give to the brothers. ''Good morning, boys. What does Harrion want now?"

"He wants us to lay low while the Peacekeepers are still alert," Perun told everyone. ''He's ceasing all guild activity today."  
"Well damn," the girl with the bread muttered under her breath; Veles wasn't entirely sure what the names of all members were. "Should've said something earlier."

"So keep an eye out and don't let the Peacekeepers provoke you," Veles said in a stern tone. "And do _not_ trust them. They're not like us. They don't care about morality and rules; if we do anything that looks like stepping out of line, we're dead and this guild is ruined."

That got up a couple of snorts from the guild. "Calm your murder boner, Dragomir!" one guy yelled and everyone laughed. Veles just glared at him, but felt Perun brush up against him and he took a deep breath to calm himself down. A thief's honour only went so far, after all. Loyalty was never any of their strong suits.

And trust was a dangerous thing.

But Veles figured his work here was done, so he took his brother's hand and led him out of the guild. "Come on, Perun, we're going back home. And watch where you're walking, okay? I can't lose another family member again."

* * *

 _Darra Delaney, 17_  
 _District 7 Female_

* * *

 _Three years before the Reaping_

Darra did not like attending the Reaping.

She also hated the fact that it was a necessary evil in Panem.

But what could she do? She just grumbled to herself as she changed into her prettiest dress and brushed her bright red hair. She had to admit, she didn't mind the outfit, but she was going to forever associate it with the Reaping. So she just scowled at her reflection in the mirror.

"Darra!" Harriet Delaney, Darra's mother, poked her hand into the bedroom. "Are you dressed yet?"  
"Yes, ma!"  
"Okay, just making sure."

Darra grumbled as she smoothed out her dress and stomped out of her room. In the bedroom next to hers, she could hear faint whispers and muffled sobs. So she decided to check up on the twins, since she had nothing else to do.

"Hey Lilly, Jonah. What's up?"  
"I'm scared!" Lilly wailed and Jonah nodded. "What if one of us gets picked?"

Darra sighed. "Yeah, I know the Reaping is scary. I don't like it either. But you guys made it through your first Reaping last year and nothing happened."  
Lilly wiped some tears from her eyes. "You're right," Jonah muttered as his gaze softened a little.

"And look at me! I've made it through two of them! And Maeve will be done with hers next year. Trust me, there are tons of kids in 7 and the bowls have so many slips in them. You two have nothing to worry about. And if one of your names gets called, I will do what I can to protect you."

Lilly grinned while Jonah just stared down at his feet. Darra gently patted him on the shoulder. He knew what he was thinking. If the gods of fate looked down upon them today and he was chosen, his family was powerless to save them.

But she didn't want to think about that.

She wasn't going to let the Capitol tear her family apart.

Downstairs, lunch was ready. The six Delaneys sat around the table, eating silently. All Darra could hear was the sound of chewing and occasional lip smacking. She tolerated it for now, before the Reaping happened and 7 was filled with nothing but screams and cries.

"Are we ready to go?" her father asked. The kids all nodded, then shared uneasy glances. But what could they do? They were going, and that was final.

Jonah reached out and took Darra's hand. Normally, she would've made him let go of her, because they were both teenagers now and could walk on their own just fine; Darra was not one to be babied. But she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. _It's alright. It will be over soon._

The Reaping usually lasted half an hour, but it felt like an eternity to Darra. Finally, she and her siblings were split up. Darra stood with the other 14 year-olds; Jonah and Lilly were one section behind her while Maeve was up it the front with the other 17 year-old kids. Darra caught sight o some friends and classmates, then clutched her hands together and waited.

The Reaping played the way it did; the way it had for the past six years. And when the escort stuck her hand into the first glass ball, Darra's heart began to pound and she couldn't breathe.

 _Not me. Oh please, don't pick me._

"Aimee Melantos!"

The escort's voice echoed over the crowd and a sixteen year-old girl broke down into sobs as Peacekeepers escorted her up to the stage. And suddenly, Darra felt a humongous weight come off her shoulders. What was she so worried about? It wasn't her who had been chosen. She was safe for at least another year.

She would've laughed to herself, but that would've come off as rude to everyone around her and especially to poor Aimee. And the Reaping wasn't done yet. There was still one last name to choose. And maybe because she knew she was safe, Darra almost tuned it out until the familiarity of the tribute's name snapped her back to reality.

"Jonah Delaney!"

 _No!_

Darra craned her neck this way and that, trying to spot her little brother. She heard Lilly scream and saw her parents on the sidelines holding each with twin masks of fear. And then she saw a little boy stumble out from the crowd and slowly shuffle towards the stage, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Jonah!" Darra screamed, pushing people aside as she ran towards him. "Jonah! No, take me instead! Take me!"

Jonah glanced up at her with glossy eyes and Darra stretched out her hand towards him, but a Peacekeeper grabbed her and yanked her back. "Silence, girl!"  
"Take me instead of him! I volunteer! I volunteer for him!"

The Peacekeeper threw Darra to the ground. On the stage Jonah covered his eyes. Lilly stopped screaming and Maeve said nothing.

"You should've volunteered when you had the chance, bitch!" the Peacekeeper yelled at her. "He's the tribute, not you! So stop being a nuisance and get out of my sight!"

In the Justice Building, Darra sobbed as Maeve held her. Jonah already had to tears left to cry as he leaned against his twin sister. "Be strong," Darra whispered to him as the Peacekeepers opened up the door and yanked them all out. "Be strong, okay? Be strong and you'll be alright. We love you."

"Okay," Jonah told her, right before the door was slammed in his face.

And that was the last word he ever said. Because Jonah made it to the second night of the 6th Hunger Games. In the stone cold labyrinth of an arena, he was discovered by the pack of tributes from 1 and 2. The eventual Victor did kill his killer, but it didn't change the fact Jonah Delaney was dead.

And Darra had never hated the Capitol more than she did now.

* * *

 **That was the District 7 Reaping! What do you think of our two characters? Whose death is Veles trying to avenge? What do you think happened to Darra's family after they lost Jonah?**

 **Thanks to my vacation at the beginning of August, my updating schedule got messed up a little, but I'll try and get into the swing of things. The plan at the moment is to alternate between PC and TMH updates. And since PC is further ahead, I want to wait until all TMH Reapings have concluded to upload the Bloodbath.**

 **Next up will be District 8! I'll see you all there!**

 **-Vr**


	7. District 8: People On The Streets

**What's this? A double update month!?**

* * *

 _Claodis Omicron, 15_  
 _District 8 Female_

* * *

 _Two weeks before the Reaping_

"Hurry up, Claodis!" Norcimo scolded her. "You're so slow!"  
"You're just fast!" Claodis told him, but she picked up her pace a little until she reached her typical spot. They were in the middle of District 8's marketplace as the Sun rose up behind them. The marketplace was always a good spot to attract people.

Claodis sat down next to a stall. Her friends all gathered around her. There was Norcimo, Coco, and her best friend Omi. She decided to start by picking up Omi and Norcimo first. There were a few people walking by; they simply ignored her.

"What should we do today, Claodis?" Omi asked her. "It gets boring just sitting here."  
"It's still early," Claodis reminded him. "The shops aren't open yet. We can just talk to each other! Tell me about your dreams last night!"

Omi did as he was asked, then Coco, then Norcimo. By now, more and more people had arrived, doing their usual shopping rounds. But they paid no heed to Claodis. Some were used to her presence and simply ignored her. Others turned their noses up at the little girl in front of them. A few scowled at her; she did have an unconventional way of making money after all.

After a few minutes, in which Omi was reliving the boredom by singing a lullaby Claodis remembered from her childhood, they were approached a by a little girl in a fancy pink dress. That dress probably cost a fortune. Clearly, this girl was way more well-off.

"Why are you talking to a doll?"  
"He's not a doll," Claodis said. She held up Omi. "This is my best friend, Omi. Say hello, Omi."  
"Hello Omi!" Omi gave a salute and the little girl laughed. "I like him, he's funny!"

Omi laughed as well in his low, scratchy voice. "Thanks, kid! I like you too!" Omi's voice broke slightly as Claodis put him down and picked up her other two dolls, which were in the form of a bunny rabbit and a dog. "These are my other friends. This is Coco, she likes carrots and she's really nice! And this mutt here is Norcimo. He always shows off how fast he is, but he's super loyal. If you let him, he'll sniff your hand."

The girl held her hand out, until her mother approached. "My goodness, what is going on here!? Get up! Let's go, and leave this dirty street rat alone!"  
Claodis's heart sank slightly; the girl waved goodbye as her mother dragged her away. She hadn't done anything nefarious. It was rare that people would actually approach her to talk with her, rather than get scared away by her friends.

She felt Coco's ears against her cheek. "Aw, don't cry! You still have us!"  
Claodis nodded. "Yeah, I do. Thanks guys."  
"No problem! Remember Claodis, we'll always be here for you, alright?"

Coco's soft, high-pitched voice relieved Claodis a bit and she felt a lot better. The day wore on and the marketplace got busy. This crowd was more generous than usual. Coins came flying down to her feet; Claodis swept them up and shoved them into her pocket. It wasn't a lot, by District 8 standards, but every little bit counted.

During the afternoon, well Claodis played a game of "Never Have I Ever" with Norcimo, she was approached by a well-dressed man with blond hair. He looked to be in his mid-twenties. Of course, Claodis recognized who he was. He was the most famous face in the entire district.

She opened her mouth to say something; Norcimo beat her to it. "Hey, is that Sliver Wirth?"  
"I think it is," Claodis whispered back. "Hello, Mr. Wirth!"

"Hey. What are you up to?"  
"Not much," Claodis said honestly. "I've just been hanging out here with my friends."  
Sliver glanced around the marketplace. "Your friends?"

"They're right here, actually! Wanna see? This is Omi, Coco and Norcimo."

Claodis expected Sliver to be turned off by her friends all piled at her feet, like most adults, but he just seemed intrigued. "Ah, I see."  
"You can talk to them, if you want."  
"Do they want to talk to me?"

"I would!" Coco piped up. "Sorry, that was a bit rude, wasn't it? I've always wanted to meet you!"  
The Victor just chuckled as Coco shyly pressed her paws together. "It's always nice to have chats with people, isn't it? Can't say I've ever spoken to a rabbit before."

"You get used to it. Well, not really. But I don't get why people think talking animals are strange," Claodis rambled. "And Coco will never admit it out loud, but she's a big fan."  
"Hey!" Coco pressed her paw against Claodis's lips. "You weren't supposed to say that!"

Sliver just nodded. "You're a very talented ventriloquist. Really, you've got a thing for entertaining people. Keep it up, kid!"

With that, the Victor of the first hunger Games handed Claodis a small pouch before walking off.

"Wow!" Coco gasped as Claodis used her free hand to open up the bag. "He's really nice, isn't he?"  
"Yeah, he is." Claodis held up a coin. "Look at all the money he gave us!"

"You guys did great!" Omi said. "Let's keep it up. We have to return to the community home in two hours."

Claodis nodded, moving Omi's head up and down as she was soon lost in her own little world of ventriloquism.

* * *

 _Twill Chintz, 16_  
 _District 8 Male_

* * *

 _Two weeks before the Reaping_

Twill just watched the teenager sitting against the stall, who was playing around with some wooden dummies. A sharp tug at his arm had him turning his attention back onto the task at hand.

"Twill, honey, give me your honest opinion." Mrs. Cross gestured to the grand variety of toys the woodcutter was selling. "Which do you think would suit my precious little nephew?"  
"I'm not sure." Twill examined all the toys sitting on the counter. "I don't know your nephew that well."

"Well, your opinion matters to me, honey. Just point out what interests you."

Twill selected a small toy that consisted of wooden slabs that were held together by ribbon. He let go of one of the slabs and they all fell down one after another until they formed a straight line.  
"That's one of our most popular toys," the woodcutter explained. "It's called Jacob's Ladder. A bit confusing when you first see them, no?"

"Fantastic!" Mrs. Cross clapped her hands together. "I'll take one for my nephew."  
She handed the woodcutter a couple of coins in exchange for the toy. Twill and Mrs. Cross walked off together, arm in arm. "Thank you for your help, dearie."

"No problem!" Twill let Mrs. Cross kiss him on the cheek. They got a disapproving look from a passerby, but Twill couldn't be bothered. Maybe some people looked down on the idea of him being a sugar baby, but it was a decent gig that brought in good money.

They continued to walk; Twill was responsible for bringing Mrs. Cross safely back home. They talked as they did. Mrs. Cross could be overbearing at times, but she was a good companion. Finally, they reached her house. Twill gave Mrs. Cross's hand a quick kiss. "It was an honour spending the day with you."

"Would you like to come inside for dinner?"  
"That would be lovely, but I'm afraid I have another engagement. I'll see you again soon, Mrs. Cross."  
"Sure thing, baby."

Bidding goodbye, Twill headed off towards his own home. Along the way, he ran into a familiar face.  
"Hey Fleece. What's up?"  
"Hey Twill!" The younger boy reached up and jostled Twill's shoulder. "Rose and I lifted some loaves of bread from the baker today."

Theft was technically a punishable offense in District 8, but for street kids like Twill and Fleece, it was just part of such a life. Normally, Fleece made sure to steal enough to feed himself without ruining anyone's stocks, so Twill wasn't too worried about him. District 8 held their own.

"Okay. Have fun. Don't get in trouble."  
"I won't. Catch ya later, Twill!"

Finally, Twill reached the slums of the district, and he approached a squat little house with a dented roof. Home. Inside, Velvet was loudly clanging a bunch of pots and pans together in an attempt to make a crude little meal. She barely looked up.

"Hey Velvet."  
"You smell like lavender."  
"I had an appointment today."

"Oh good." Velvet scraped some food residue off a pan as Twill prepared a pot of boiling water over their little stove. "They pay well."  
"I guess they do. But that's besides the point. How was work? No overtime?"

"No, not today." Velvet sighed. "Which sucks, because you've got all his stuff that the bosses want you to do, you're working all this machinery and you could end up losing an arm. On top of that, how much do we get paid, really? It's unfair! And they actually expect to show up with a smile on our faces to work in that bullshit?"

Twill sighed in sympathy. "Ouch."  
"It will all go to hell someday. Someone's going to snap and the next thing you know, the district is full of organized chaos. But we're not gonna starve if you keep smooching up to those rich old ladies like you always do. With money like that, we're eating like kings!"

"It's not as bad as it sounds if you don't describe it like that. I'm not in it just for the money."  
Velvet raised an eyebrow and Twill sighed. "Okay, fine. The money is a nice bonus. But they're kinda lonely and I like spending time with them. I get to do a lot of stuff that I wouldn't have done if I worked in a factory like you. Mrs. Cross thinks I remind her of her son."

"Okay, baby!" Velvet patted him in the head. "Whatever floats your boat! I don't judge."  
Twill knew she was teasing him. Velvet liked to rant and complain a lot, but his profession never bothered her like it did for other people. In a way, it repaid her a little. Twill knew she didn't have to offer up her tiny little house to him. It wasn't the most comfy, but it was a roof over his head and a meal on the table. It was a lot better than the streets.

 _Anything_ was better than the streets.

Because of that simple act of kindness, Twill was doing his best to pay it forward to his friends. He tried to help out Fleece and Rose as much as he could, providing them with old clothes, leftover meals, and the occasional coin he "accidentally" dropped in front of them.

But as the Reaping grew closer, things became more expensive. Dinner consisted of leeks floating in a pot of water, plus some overcooked meat. Velvet frowned and Twill patted her on the back. "Hey, it's okay. It's going to taste good. And you know what? On Reaping Day, let's have a big feast. We'll buy a big cut of meat for it and we'll invite everyone."

"Good idea," Velvet agreed. "Do you have anything tonight."  
"Another date."  
"Okay. Have fun."

* * *

 **Woohoo, two updates in one month!**

 **Trying to recover my uploading schedule so it will be easier to swing into. Also, I'm making the most of the summer, since it's almost over.**

 **What do you think of these two tributes? Do you like one more than the other? Next chapter, we'll be in District 11, so stay tuned for that!**

 **-Vr**


	8. District 11: Nightmares and Realities

**Trigger warning: some sensitive and dark topics mentioned in Weller's POV like child soldiers and underage rape. Please proceed with caution.  
**

* * *

 _Weller Worthen, 18_  
 _District 11 Male_

* * *

 _Four months before the Reaping_

Go to sleep, Weller told himself. Go to sleep.

There was nothing there. It was all empty. The little room that belonged to him had nothing. The rebellion had been over for years. He could hear Trevor's faint breaths from across the hall. If a little 12 year-old was fine, he should be too.

And normally, he was. Weller could go about his day with the past a distant memory somewhere in his mind. He could ignore it, and life continued like usual. He got up, ate a meager breakfast, headed off to work in in a shop, did some occasional deliveries in richer neighbourhoods, avoided anybody who he deemed untrustworthy. he saved up, spent modestly, then went to bed to repeat the process all over again the next day.

It wasn't a preferable life, but it wasn't a bad one. Weller kept an eye out for opportunities anyways. Too many times he had seen people let things slip through their fingers. Weller had been running on nothign but survival for the last nine years and he'd be damned if he looked back one his life and learned he had done nothing with it.

 _Creak. Creak. Creak._

The floorboards were moving again. They fell into a rhythm; Weller knew nobody was there. The only other person in the house was Trevor, and he was fast asleep. Weller closed his eyes, and a familiar silhouette blazed before him. Then the world was set on fire.

 _Creak._

Bombs falling.

 _Creak._

Guns firing.

 _Creak._

Bodies littered the street. Peacekeepers kicked at their heads. They laughed. Little nine year-old Weller curled up tightly and held back tears.

 _Creak._

He had to fight back. He had no other choice. The rebels took his hand and Weller didn't care where they were leading him, as long as he was far from the burning hell.

 _Creeeeeeak._

There was a knock at the door.

It was Trevor. He stood there with glossy red eyes and hands in his pajama pockets. He waved shyly at Weller and mouthed _Hello._ Weller sighed and patted the blanket at his feet. Trevor quickly hurried over. "What is it now, Trevor?"  
Trevor just shrugged; he had never said a single word to Weller. But they knew each other well enough.

"Did you have a nightmare again?"  
Trevor nodded.  
"You know he's not coming back, right? You saw him put that bullet through his brain. He's dead and he can't hurt you anymore."

Trevor sniffed quietly and tears flooded his eyes. Weller patted the boy's knee. "I'm serious when I say that. I know, sometimes I worry about him too. But he's gone and we're here. We'll be fine, kay? Now, get back to bed. You have school tomorrow."  
Trevor did as he was told. Weller settled down and pulled the blankets over his head.

And he felt like a little kid again, with a gun on his shoulder and a faint scar running down his leg he was too afraid to admit. _Our little secret,_ Colton had told him and Weller cried that night, because he felt hurt and nobody was there to make it all better. As far as Peacekeepers and rebels were concerned, he was just another target to shoot at.

War, in Weller's opinion, was a terrible thing no matter which side you were on. People died, some good and some bad, some loved and some hated. Those who weren't dead were left broken. He wished he had known that long before the rebels picked him up and taught him to shoot anything that moves.

But the war was over, was it not? He lost everything, _everyone,_ but he was still here. He could have been one of them, another tick in the tally of the dead, but he survived and he lived. Did that really mean anything? Well, not really. War did not spare people for any reasons. War took and took and took and some were just lucky enough to escape.

Weller could make it mean something.

When he clsoed his eyes, yet again, there was nothing there. He just had to remind himself that. Things had happened, yes, _war_ had happened. But it had all happened in the past. Weller couldn't change the past. He could only focus on the future.

The future he made for himself.

For the rest of the night, nothing came back to haunt him.

* * *

 _Acacia Hazeldine, 14_  
 _District 11 Female_

* * *

 _Six months before the Reaping_

Mother Nature must've been feeling a little cruel today. Acacia's face froze as the wind nearly knocked her over. She wrapped her worn-out coat tight around her body and picked up the pace. She was almost home.

Nothing had changed. Viridis was still slaving away over their tiny, outdated stove. Oriole was sitting at the table, scribbling on a piece of paper. Across the hall from the kitchen was their father's bedroom; there was the faint smell of alcohol. The bed was empty.

Viridis answered the question before Acacia even asked. "He's not home yet."  
"I can cook tonight, if you want." Acacia's gaze lingered on the small pile of papers across from Oriole. Homework, perhaps?

"I'm fine, Ac."  
"We're not kids anymore."  
"I know."

Acacia took the pot from Viridis's hands, nearly spilling the contents all over them. "You need to do your homework on time, or else the teacher's gonna try and arrange a meeting with dad. We can't have that right now. I'll take over dinner. Get Oriole to set the table."

The situation had sunken in and Viridis nodded. As dire as things were, Acacia wanted to do everything in her power to present them as a normal, functional, happy family. If the teachers suspected something and they contacted the Peacekeepers, Acacia and her brothers could potentially end up in the Community Home. Acacia had seen what the kids looked like there. Too many bodies and not enough supplies to go around.

So she and Viridis became the adults of the household. She tried not to always think about it, using school and chores as a welcome distraction. She supposed she was a bit of a one track mind in a sense; focus on the task at hand. When she was working, she could put all of her energy into her projects and not the reality of her home.

A dead mother. An alcoholic father. A struggling baby brother. A broken house, with peeling paints and lingering smells.

Lukewarm soup was poured into three cracked bowls. Oriole was the first person to finish dinner; he shoved the bowl into Acacia's face. "I want more."  
"We don't have any more."  
"But I'm hungry!"

Acacia gave him a hug. "I know, baby. I know."

Viridis said nothing throughout the whole meal, before shoving his homework aside. "I've got a shift tonight. I'll try to be home before ten."  
It was already dark outside, but Acacia decided not to push it. "You promise? Just one shift?"

"I can do overtime. We need the money."  
"Viridis, it's dark out. It's the middle of winter and-"

"And I'll be damned if we starve to death because you won't let me work a few more measly hours," Viridis retorted. He stomped off.

Acacia just watched her brother leave. A few minutes later, her father was home. He reeked of cheap booze. As usual. "Hey Dad-" Acacia started to say, but he just shoved past her and into his room. The sound of clinking bottles could be heard before the door slammed shut.

The rest of the night was spent doing homework and giving Oriole a bath. As she tucked him in, Acacia rubbed at her eyes and yawned. Before she could leave, she felt someone tug on her shirt.  
"What's up, Oriole? It's bedtime."  
"I'm not tired!"

Acacia wanted to sleep herself, but she led Oriole back to his bed. He crawled in, reached behind his covers, and pulled out a book. "Story time."  
"You want me to read to you/?Okay, but you have to go to sleep afterwards."  
"Okay!"

Sure enough, Oriole went out of his way to draw out the story for as long as he could. He claimed he had to go to that bathroom, he made Acacia get him a glass of water, but eventually, he was fast asleep. Acacia tiptoed out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Viridis didn't come home until after eleven. Acacia waited for him, busying herself by cleaning up the house. She peeked through the cupboard and her heart dropped. They were empty. She managed to find a few spices, an old block of cheese, and a pair of soup cans, but it wouldn't last. It couldn't keep four people fed until the next paycheck.

Viridis looked exhausted. He didn't acknowledge Acacia either, just fell face-first onto the bed. Acacia pulled a blanket over him. Everything was quiet. She could go to bed herself.

As she lay there, her mind raced. Acacia had a lot to think about, after all. Schoolwork, home life, what they were going to eat tomorrow, whether or not they had enough family in their pockets. It stressed her out. Too much for her to think about and she wasn't sure what to start with.

Wouldn't it be nice not to have so much on her mind?

She slowly drifted into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

 **This took a lot longer than I expected, but here's D11!**

 **Not much to say, other than it seems like everyone's back in school now. Me too. I'm aiming for the next chapter, District 1, to be up in late September, so stay tuned for that!**

 **-Vr**


	9. District 1: All Bets Are Off

**Finally, I'm back!**

* * *

 _Elise Starbright, 16_  
 _District 1 Female_

* * *

 _Three months before the Reaping_

They had one last day to get things right.

Deep down, Elise had a feeling they wouldn't fix all the broken scenery, the torn costumes, and the blinking lights in time for opening night. There was just too much happening at once. She glanced over her script, then tucked it away. She was fine, she didn't need it. All of her lines had been memorized and she could recite them straight from the heart. This wasn't the first time she'd stand on that stage and it likely wouldn't be the last. She was beyond ready.

Beside her, Taylor was frantically flipping through her own copy of the script. "Okay, okay...I know of all this, right? I'm good? I'm good."  
"You'll be fine," Elise assured her. "We've spent a lot of time practicing."  
"I'm just worried I'm gonna fuck up and forget all my lines!"

"Trust me, you won't." Elise grabbed her skirt, the fabric bunching up in her hand. "I believe in you."  
Taylor nodded, the script forgotten in her hands. "Thanks, El. Hey, is something bothering you?"

Elise sighed. "No, but...well, there's nothing I can do about it now."  
"You'll be fine! You're such a good actress!"

A group of other girls walked by; they were also part of the play. "Loyalist scum," one mouthed to Elise, careful to not let anyone else notice her words. Elise's face grew hot and red. The girls giggled with each other and walked off. Elise tightened her grip on the bunched up skirt in her hands.

"Hey, hey, hey! Ignore them!" Taylor placed a hand on Elise's back. "You know they want to rile you up! Just ignore them, right?"  
Elise nodded. "It's been...it's been...I was only 7 when it...they have no _right_!"  
"Again, just riling you up."

Elise nodded. She let go of the skirt and smoothed out all the crevices. "I know. My history has nothing to do with me, right?"  
"We were only kids when it ended, how the hell would we remember anything?"

They were interrupted by the sudden influx of kids running backstage, as the teachers in charge of production tried to round them up. Someone pushed Elise and Taylor off to the side, then dabbed some makeup onto their faces. It was time for yet another dress rehearsal.

The play's plot was simple, Capitol propaganda some of the kids had called it. Elise was the role of a rebel widow, and like most of the other "rebels", she was well dead by the end of the play. Taylor got off lucky, playing the part of the heroic peacekeeper. They still smirked at each as Taylor took a foam gun and poked Elise's arm with it.

"Die rebel, die!"  
"You'll never catch me alive!"  
"For the glory of the Capitol!" Taylor said, her voice cracking slightly. They both laughed.

Thee was a _second_ rehearsal afterwards, but Elise still didn't feel confident enough for the next night. This wasn't her first performance, far form it. She always got a little nervous the night before. Ah whatever. The play would go off without a hitch. The Capitol won, they _always_ won.

Shouldn't Elsie feel happy? After all, she was still born and raised a Loyalist. She didn't hate the Capitol at all, really. She wasn't afraid of her opinions and her views. But just as she was the daughter of Loyalists, her classmates were the children of rebels. They were raised to hate her.

She slowly stripped off her costume; she didn't love it or hate it. Elise was the rebel was a fictional character, who would be dead and gone once the play was finally over. Folding her skirt neatly, Elsie hissed at the girls who scowled at her. _Stuck-up rebel bitches._

"See you later, El!" Taylor called out. Elsie nodded, took her costume, and left the stage. Outside, Emerson Starbright was waiting for her. "Hey kiddo. How was the rehearsal?"  
"The usual, I guess. I mean, I already know my lines and everything."  
"That's good! Are you excited for tomorrow?"

Elise nodded. "You'll be there, Dad. Right?"  
"Of course, sweetheart. I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Elise leaned against her father's shoulder. "I'll make sure you get a seat right in the front row."  
"Oh, what a treat! I'll make sure I clap extra loud for you."  
"Daaaad, that's embarrassing!"

"No it's not!" Emerson insisted and Elise laughed, feeling safe and loved. She still had her father, even if it was them against the world.

* * *

 _Stravos Brodie, 16_  
 _District 1 Male_

* * *

 _One week before the Reaping_

On the edge of District 1, where most people didn't dare to go, a burly man in his thirties began to pace around. As he kept an eye out, he was approached by a blond 16 year-old boy with a smug grin on his face. Certainly not the type of person that belonged on this side of the district.

"Scram, you little shit! We don't want you here!"

Stravos didn't budge, rubbing his fingers against the coins in his pocket. "Oh please, not even for a few minutes."  
"Fuck off."  
"But I have money!"

Stravos pulled a coin from his pocket and handed it to the bodyguard. "What do you think, sir? Shiny, is it not? There's plenty more where that came from. Of course, I could pay you back for all your troubles, once I double, no, perhaps triple my earnings inside."

The bodyguard scowled. "Y-you...f-fine! Get inside and don't make a mess!"  
"Lovely day to you too, sir"! Stravos said in a voice dripping with sarcasm. Stupid bodyguards. Way too easy to rile up.

The gambling ring looked exactly the same as it did last time he was here. Stravos quickly sat down at one of the larger tables. Everybody ignored his presence. The dealer took a deck of cards and shuffled them around. Stravos was sitting on her left so he received his cards first. He examined them: the ace of diamonds and the seven of spades. Nice. Nobody was looking at him just yet so he quickly dug his fingernail onto the back of the ace, right in the centre.

The dealer was just about done handing cards out, so Stravos quickly glanced over at the man on his left. He just barely caught sight of the two cards. A three of clubs and a jack of spades.

Time to bet. The blinds were set and it was his turn.

He simply called, not wanting to push his luck. Stravos had an ace and he sure as hell wasn't going to waste this opportunity. The dealer put up the flop; three cards sitting face up. A seven of diamonds, a ten of spades, and a six of diamonds. Stravos kept his face neutral, but he wanted to laugh. Perfect! That flop was perfect!

He was sitting at a table with five other men; the fourth one folded and everyone else matched. So the bet stayed the same. The dealer flipped out a new card: the ace of clubs. Yes! A pair of aces wasn't the best hand ever, but it would be the best hand Stravos could make. He raised the bet and the player beside him folded. As the next players called, Stravos quickly slipped a small chip off the folded player's pile, placing it with his own. Another two folded.

The final card was added to the flop: ace of hearts. Right now, the game was practically in Stravos's hand; a pair of sevens, plus a three of a kind with the aces. There was almost know way he'd lose. A full house was one of the bets hands in the game and luck better be on his side.

It was.

Stravos rangled up all his chips and smirked. "Fine game, gentlemen. I look forward to playing with you in the future-oh my god, look at the guy! He's cheating! He just stole all those chips off that table! Somebody stopped him!"

The commotion broke out as his poker buddies jumped up to confront the confused man. Even the dealer did, leaving the cards unattended. Stravos quickly picked up all the remaining chips and carried them off to be cashed in. His pockets were heavy and wonderful with all the coins stuffed inside. How the hell could he earn so much in so little time?

The bodyguard raised an eyebrow at Stravos as he left, but did nothing. Stravos hurried home, hoping to make it there before his parents arrived and stash away all his earnings. Unfortunately, everyone was home. And they were waiting for him. His parents sat together on the couch while Stravos's little sister, Kylian poked her head out from the hallway.

"Hi mom," Stravos said sweetly. "Hi dad-"  
"Stravos, we've talked about this," Kindon Brodie sighed. She pressed her fingers against her forehead. "Under no circumstances are you allowed to sneak out and-"  
"Ah, bugger off mom! look at all this money I've made!"

"Hey!" Quell jammed a finger in his son's face. "Do not speak to your mother like that! And she's right. Stravos, gambling rings are dangerous and many of the men who work there can come after you. You're threatening the safety of our family over what? A silly card game?"

Stravos scoffed. "Silly card games, schmilly card game. I'm rich! Like a mob boss! Like grampa!"  
"Yes, and how did he end up?" Quell asked. "He didn't know what he was doing. And you don't either."

"I think I know exactly what I'm doing. How the hell would I end up with all this cold, hard cash?"  
"Stravos. Brodie. Room. Now."

Stravos sighed and stalked off. he slammed his door shut, then proceeded to pull a large jar out from under his mattress. He dumped his latest earnings inside, then hid the jar again. He flopped back onto his bed, planning his next move. Suddenly, a rock came flying at his window. Then another.

Stravos cracked the window open. "What do you want, Saund-ass?"  
Saundra cackled as he picked up another rock. "What, you gonna sulk or day or join me on a bust? We're technically old enough if we enter the poker tournament together."

"A tournament!?"  
"You coming, pretty boy?"

Stravos cackled. "Oh, I'm so in."

* * *

 **So, here's D1. These two were pretty fun to write, both neat characters in their own ways. Hope you liked them!**

 **See you in D4 next chapter!**

 **-Vr**


	10. District 4: Gone

_Haruhi Maki, 18_  
 _District 4 Male_

* * *

 _Two months before the Reaping_

"So...that's it."

Clare blinked back tears. "I'm so sorry, Haruhi, but...it's just...look at us! It used to be so full of life! I don't know what happened!"

Haruhi wasn't sure what happened either. To him, this felt like a waste. Three years of calling Clare his girlfriend...gone. Over. Just like that.  
"I've said it before. There's no spark, Haruhi. I don't want to date a guy I'm not interested in. But...we can still be friends, okay?"

"So this isn't my fault."  
"Of course not!"

Clare smiled sadly and blinked back some tears. Haruhi felt entirely calm. He wasn't sure why. He didn't want to lose Clare as his girlfriend and he was going to miss that. At the same time, she was still his friend, right? So he hadn't completely lost her. Maybe friendship was a lot less stressful for the both of them anyways.

"Are you worried?" Clare asked. "Are you worried it's something you did?"  
"Maybe I'm a little worried. I've been thinking this over a lot. Is that a bad thing?"  
"No...not really..."

Haruhi gave her a hug. "I'll see you around, Clare, alright? I think the whole relationship thing is over. But we're still friends."  
"Of course we are!"  
"Yes. Friends. I like that."

Clare wiped some more tears out of her eyes. "Yeah, yeah...I think I'm gonna go home...I just feel really tired all of a sudden..."  
"Sure thing. See you later."

Haruhi turned around and walked off. He felt an empty feeling in his stomach. After all, they had been dating for three years. It hadn't been until a few weeks ago during a midnight walk, that Clare suddenly burst into tears and screamed at him that they were over. Finally, they got around to talking about it and it seemed they were finally friends. Nothing else. Just very good friends. That seemed a lot better. Now, there was no stress for Haruhi to act like the perfect boyfriend, the romantic figure. Not that Clare would've viewed him any less anyways.

It was still pretty early in the morning. A few people were out and about; many more were probably still inside. Haruhi gave them all a passing glance. He watched as they hurried to open up their shops, put their wares out for show, clean floors, make breakfast, hike up the sails and drag the boats out to sea. They all moved way too quickly to stop and think, to consider their actions. No time to enjoy the day that lay ahead. The only way to enjoy District 4 was to ride the waves without too much worry of where they went.

Rush, rush rush! All everybody ever did was rush!

Personally, Haruhi liked to take things easy.

Perhaps, _too_ easy?

"Haruhi!"  
"Huh? Oh, hey Cora." Haruhi gave the girl a polite wave. She was from his spearfishing class right? He wasn't entirely sure. "What are you doing?"  
"Not much. Haruhi, I heard you and Clare broke up. Is everything okay? Did she break your heart? Oh, don't tell me she cheated on you!"

"It's not like that," Haruhi insisted. "It was...we just kinda fell out of it, I guess. We're still friends though."  
"Oh, thank goodness. I'm so glad she didn't hurt you. You don't deserve that, okay? You deserve a girl who's faithful and loving."

"Thanks Cora." Haruhi sighed. "I don't think I'm ready to have another girlfriend yet."  
"Oh...I suppose so..." Cora suddenly bumped Haruhi's arm. "Don't want to rush things, you know?"

Haruhi continued to walk on, Cora trailing beside him. Finally, he glanced over his shoulder at her. "Are you feeling alright?"  
"Why?"  
"Your face is all red."

Cora gasped and placed her hands on her cheeks. "Oh, I'm fine! It's just...sunburn! It's nice that you care, but don't worry about little old me-"

"Haruhi!" Another girl ran up to him and took his hand, squeezing it firmly. "There you are! I heard about what happened with you and Clare! That must feel awful, you two have been dating for years! Look, if you ever need a shoulder to cry on-"  
"Thanks Angela. But I'm fine. Honest."

"That's so brave of you," Angela said with a slight purr. Cora nodded. "But know that I'm here, alright?"  
"And me!"

"Thanks girls. I'll see you both in class." Haruhi slid Cora and Angela off him. It felt nice to have a support system, if he was the kind of person to get weepy over the whole situation. but there wasn't anything to cry over. he wasn't stuck in a relationship that felt empty, he didn't lose Clare, he could enjoy being single for as long as he wanted.

He wasn't paying attention to the girls who watched him leave, then turn a bright red as they giggled to each other into their hands.

* * *

 _Adella "Dell" Kerrick, 16_  
 _District 4 Female_

* * *

 _One month before the Reaping_

Her father had spent almost an hour polishing that damn teapot.

He loved his trinkets, Dell knew that. Sometimes, she thought his treasures were pretty cool. At the same time, they were a distraction. An excuse for him not to answer all of her questions. Again, she asked the same questions every time. She always got the same response. He pretended to be too busy admiring his latest shiny toy or relic.

 _Curiosity killed the cat_ , people would tell her, pretending to know any better.

They often neglected to mention how satisfaction brought it back.

"Do you need any help, Dad?" Dell asked, trying to open up a conversation.  
"You need to get ready for school."  
"I don't have to leave yet!"

Her father sighed and Dell giggled. "Where did you get the teapot from?"  
"I believe it belonged to someone from the Capitol. Although, I found it on the beach so they probably lost it at some point."  
"Do you think you'll find the owner someday?"

Faraday Kerrick put down the trinket. "I know exactly where this conversation is heading."  
"Come on, Dad! I'm not a little girl anymore! I can handle what you have to say!"

Faraday sighed. "She had her reasons, Dell."  
"That's not enough for me."

"Well, it is for me," Faraday said. He pointed his finger at his daughter. "I understand you're not a little girl, but this conversation is not for you."  
"She's my family too!"  
"And?"

Dell folded her arms. "Cam you blame me? She leaves one day without a word to anyone. I get I was young when it happened, but I'm not anymore. I'm sixteen! Practically an adult!"  
" _Almost_ an adult."

"Okay...fine..." Dell huffed. "But I'm a mature teenager! I can handle a little bit of truth."  
"I can't."  
"What?"

Faraday didn't even look up, pretending to be too mesmerized by his _stupid_ little teapot. A teapot! A teapot was getting more attention than his daughter!

"This is a hard topic for me, Dell. I don't feel like speaking about it now and I certainly don't appreciate you bringing it up. Like I said, she had her reasons. Do I know every single one? No, probably not. I keep repeating this because it's all I can tell you at this time. You're still a child and I don't want you living life with a burden on your shoulders."

"But..." Dell unfolded her arms. "But it burdens me not to know."  
"I know, I know."

Just like that, the conversation was over. Dell felt a little bit guilty treading on personal territory with her father like that. She knew he didn't like it whenever she brought up the subject. But perhaps, it would benefit them both in the long run to just spill. She'd know the truth, and he could finally open up to her.

Grabbing a slice of toast, Dell slipped her backpack onto her shoulders. It was time for school. She could pester her father later. He'd be home all day, fussing over those shiny little artifacts he liked to collect and place on display. Like that teapot.

It didn't take too long to get to school, so Dell wasn't bothered with hurrying up. She arrived with plenty of time to spare.

"Dell Kerrick!" Dell jumped as her best friend Theseus wrapped his arm around her shoulder.  
"Hey! Get off me!"

"What are we doing today Dell? Hey, some guy I know got me some old cigarette box. Wonder how much your dad could pawn it off for?"  
"Ew, you smoke, Theseus? That's dirty!"  
"No, not me! This body is too perfect to ruin."

Dell nodded, only half-listening to her friend. She was still playing the morning's conversation over and over in her head, as well as many identical ones in the mornings before.

"Dell? Dell! Helloooo? Earth to Dell!"  
"Sorry. I just kinda..."  
"Zoned out?"

Dell nodded. Theseus shrugged. "Whatever. Hey, you'll find her eventually. Once you're an adult, he can't stop you. You can go find her yourself!"  
"That is true. I just I wish I didn't have to wait so long."

"Will anything happen if you wait? You think she's going to die?"

"Theseus!" Dell slapped her friend's arm. "Don't speak about my mother like that! And no, she's not dead! She can't be!"  
"It was just a suggestion...jeez!"  
"Don't suggest something like that!" Dell huffed. "Honestly. I'm never going to you for advice again."

Theseus cackled. He slapped her arm in return. "Bold of you so assume I have good advice."  
"I guess that was my own fault, then. Desperate times calls for desperate measures."  
"That's right you ought to...HEY!"

Dell cackled.

* * *

 **Finally! It's out!**

 **Over halfway done with the Reapings, which is great because we all know how tiring they can be.**

 **BTW, new story out! It's called Rainbows and Storms and it's a SYOT with a twist! I'd really appreciate it if you gave it a read!**

 **-Vr**


	11. District 2: Rebel Yell

_Bellona Pierce, 16_  
 _District 2 Female_

* * *

 _4 months before the Games_

Winter in District 2 always felt like an eternity.

The cold almost never bothered her anymore. Bellona huffed as she shoved her hands into the pockets of her tattered jacket. Nobody stopped to look at her as she brushed by. She didn't want their pity anyways. It was much safer to be alone.

It was probably a lot warmer in Claymore Regans's Peacekeeper Academy, Bellona realized as she passed by the building. From what she knew, attendance had skyrocketed after the 8th Games aired and Honouria Crass came back home. Just like that, 2 had more victors than anyone else. Everyone began brainstorming. If that lovesick little bird could do it after a year of Peacekeeper training, what was stopping them?

Bellona scoffed. Peacekeepers could kiss her ass for all she was concerned.

It was still pretty early in the morning, despite the dark sky. Teenagers carried training bags and wore long, thick coats, chatting and laughing in groups. Bellona ignored them. Yep, she didn't care. She didn't give a flying fuck that they had friends and they were happy and they couldn't notice her shivering and struggling through the cold because she had no warm place to stay...

"Ay, Peirce!"

Bellona scowled. "What the fuck do you want?"  
The quartet of boys all laughed. "Damn, Miss Winter," one of them laughed. "Frostbite hasn't been kind to you, I see."

"Don't mess with me, asshole."  
"Hey now, we don't want any bad blood. Reagans would be pretty pissed if I showed up with a bloody nose. Anyways, if you're done moping, wanna join us for some hot chocolate later tonight?"

Bellona shook her head. "I don't care for some stupid chocolate."  
The boys laughed again. "Why not?" another one asked. "Who says no to hot chocolate? It's not like we're asking you to come commit a felony with us. It's a really good joint and everyone goes there. It's not like you ever hang out with anyone else anyways. Aren't you cold?"

Bellona _was_ cold. Freezing. And the idea of a hot drink and people to talk to her did appeal to her a little. But she didn't need friends. She was just fine on her own without people and that wasn't going to change. Sure, these kids were nothing like Daytona, the bitch who loved to torment Bellona for no good reason. But they trained to become filthy Peacekeepers and that was enough for her to dislike them.

"I think I'll pass."  
"Aw man. You sure?"  
"Yes. I am sure."  
"Well, hey, if you change your mind-"

"I don't care!" Bellona yelled, spinning on her heel and stomping away. The boys gasped and whispered to each other. So they were a little intimidated by her. Fine. Better to be feared than to be soft. Bellona did not make it this far by becoming soft. There was too much bullshit going on to be soft.

Another trainee brushed past, this time accompanied by her little sister. Bellona felt a slight pang of envy and looked away. It had been what, six years? Maybe seven or eight? She blinked; really, that long? That long without someone to hold her time, to pat her on the back, to whisper goodnight in her ear or tell her how much she was loved.

Six, seven, _hell_ , perhaps eight years ago, the Capitol took it all from her.

The sky was starting to get lighter, a pale shade of blue following the brilliant purples, reds, and oranges. The clouds were surprisingly clear. The snow was clean and crisp, the kind Bellona used to see in picture books. It wasn't a bad day to be outside, and she decided to take a little bit of pride in the fact she had all day to enjoy the weather, rather than be cooped up inside a smelly gym with a bunch of Peacekeepers for several hours.

What a poetic thought. Bellona chuckled to herself. She wasn't a very optimistic person, nor did she care much for poetry.

She headed into the marketplace, hoping that there might be some scraps left for her to eat. As she did, someone gave her a harsh shove and Bellona almost fell headfirst into a snow bank. The attacker exploded into laughter. "What are you doing in the snow? Don't you know that dogs pee in there?"

Bellona brushed the snow off her, glaring at Daytona Caver, arguably the worst person to exist in the district. "Really? I thought the smell was your breath!" She held up her fists. "Now fuck, because if you're gonna push me, I will punch your head in. And I won't do it lightly."

Daytona hesitated and the smirk on her face disappeared. She glanced around; nobody was there to notice. Bellona just watched as Dayton shoved her hands in her pockets and quickly hurried off. "Fine. Fuck you then. I'm too cold. But I totally could beat you into next week if I wanted! I swear!"

Bellona didn't respond. She shivered and continued her trek towards the marketplace, hoping to get something to eat, even if it was the leftovers from last night chucked into the trash by those who could afford to waste it.

* * *

 _Toren Kollath, 17_  
 _District 2 Male_

* * *

 _4 months before the Games_

Training was in full force. Toren and Gia were some of the very first to sign up for it when Claymore Regans opened up the Academy. At first, Claymore put focus on discipline and respect, the kinds of things they needed to excel as Peacekeepers. But then Honouria's year of training gave her a slight advantage over the rest of the arena and that placed changed everyone's minds.

Train. Volunteer. Win.

That being said, Gia had made it very clear that she had no intention of actually volunteering for the Games. She called it prolonged suicide. After eight years and eight Victors, Claymore Regans was the only one who actually volunteered to play the Games and won. Toren was perfectly okay with that. He didn't want to ever see Gia die.

Toren's first stop after arriving was to meet one of the Peacekeepers who specialized in hand-to-hand combat. Gia considered it somewhat useless since Toren could've easily been taken out by a spear before he had time to use his fists. Toren didn't care. It was almost a distraction for him, a chance to take out any pent-up anger he had inside.

"Good form," the trainer said, observing Toren's position. "Very steady; you'd be really hard to push down. Don't shake so much."  
"Sorry." Toren wiped his sweaty hands on his pants and resumed the position. The trainer stood across from him, both daring the other to make the first move. Toren's eyes darted left to right as he tried to calculate whether it was better to go offensive, or stay on the defense.

He didn't have time to reach his decision, as the trainer swung first.

Toren narrowly ducked, almost tumbling backwards. The trainer pounced on him, taking a couple swipes. They didn't hurt, but Toren could feel the trainer pounding him. He tried to shrug him off, but was essentially pinned against the mat. He swung his legs up and thrust to the side, hoping to shake the trainer off him.

Finally, the trainer did move. "I suppose I caught you off guard."  
"Yeah. A little."  
"And why is that?"

"I wasn't paying attention," Toren admitted. "I was too busy guessing which tactic would be a better chose that I forgot to notice what my opponent was doing."  
"A grave mistake. If I was a lowly rebel and you a Peacekeeper, I could've easily disarmed and killed you. In the middle of a battlefield, there will be plenty of distractions; very rarely will you get a quiet one-on-one fight. Pay attention to your opponent. Surprise is very a useful advantage."

Toren nodded. He took a quick water break to soothe his aching body. Gia was also getting a drink. Her forehead was beaded with sweat from throwing spears all morning.

"How's it going?" Gia asked.  
"Ugh. He beat my ass real good."  
"Huh?"

"Not really," Toren quickly replied. "It was kinda my fault. I just got pinned. Didn't actually get beat up or anything."  
"Oh good. For a second, I was worried there." Gia laughed. "Come throw spears with me! If your arms aren't that sore."

"Maybe later," Toren promised. Gia just shrugged and walked off. A group of boys had gathered nearby. Toren could overhear their conversation as they made plans to go get hot chocolate later that night. Then one mentioned some girl they called "Pierce", to which someone else said if she didn't want to go, then it wasn't their problem.

"Hi," Toren called out, before realizing what he just said. The entire group turned to look at him. "Oh...sorry. Am I interrupting something?"  
"Not really," one of the boys replied. "Toren, right?"

"Yeah. Is it Hadrian?"  
Hadrian and his friends nodded. "We weren't doing anything really important."  
"You said you were getting hot chocolate later?"

"You can come if you'd like," another boy said. "You can bring that girl you're with...wait, I'm confused. Is she your sister or your girlfriend?"  
Toren's cheeks turned a bright red and his face heated up. "Wha...guys...guys! That's so gross!"  
"It's an honest question..." the boy trailed off as his friends laughed and Hadrian punched him in the shoulder. "You two are always hanging out, but you look nothing alike."

"What, we can't just be friends?" Toren laughed nervously. "She's...she's like my sister! Not biological, of course. But her family pretty much considers me part of them. We're just friends. That's it."  
"Hey, no need to get so defensive," Hadrian insisted, putting up his hands. "No biggie. Cool, it's all cool. Anyways, back to training. See ya later, Toren!"

As the group split up, Toren could hear the boys talk in excited whispers about the Games would approach before they knew it and maybe, they'd be prepared enough to volunteer. If not, there was always next year...or perhaps the year after that...

Toren himself had never given volunteering much thought. He never really thought about how many tributes were training under the hopes of potentially volunteering to win the riches and glory that came with victory. It was a risky move, but was the reward worth it?

God, his parents would've killed him if they knew he was here; they hated anything to do with the Capitol. But they didn't know, did they?

Toren went back to hand-to-hand combat, determined to finally beat his trainer this time.

* * *

 **At long last, another Reaping finally out of the way! This was a fun chapter to explore the early Careers and the start of what will become the Academy that the produces them. What do you think about the tributes?**

 **Next chapter up will be District 12!**

 **-Vr**


	12. District 12: Another Day Gone By

**More story talk going on over at my Discord server. PM me for the link!**

 **Trigger warning: some slight misgendering in Stryker's POV.**

* * *

 _Stryker Ember, 15_  
 _District 12 Male_

* * *

 _One month before the Reaping_

"What do you mean they're gone?"

"Sorry Stryker," Spark whimpered. "I didn't mean to...but they usually come back, right? It's only been a day."  
"I hope you're right. Should we look for them?"

Spark nodded, just as Stryker realized that combing the entire district was going to take up most of, if not their entire day. Great. Ey didn't want to admit it, but just like eir twin sister, ey were a little worried about their pet. Ey were a lot more attached to Bob then ey cared to admit.

"So, where should we start?"

Sure enough, by the time they had finished, it was evening. They were standing at the very edge of the district, where the electric fence crackled loudly, signaling danger for those who dared to come too close. Stryker grimaced. "Don't tell me..."  
"Do you really think so?"  
"God, I hope not."  
"Hey! What are yo two up to?"

"Oh, hi Max." Stryker didn't flinch as eir best friend tightly wrapped an arm around eir neck. "What are you doing?"  
"What are _you_ doing?"  
"We're looking for Bob," Spark explained.

Maxwell laughed. "Seriously? That rat of yours?"  
"They're a good rat, Max."  
"Yeah, but...a rat."

Stryker pulled eir friend's arm off em. "Come on, they're our pet!"  
"Oh, fair enough. But why can't you get a real pet, like a cat or a dog?"

Just as Stryker had a witty retort lined up, Spark sighed, leaning up against em. "This sucks! We'll never be able to find them!"  
"You don't know that. We can always look tomorrow."  
"Good luck!" Maxwell called out, waving goodbye as the twins hurried home. Surprisingly, it was fairly empty. Lorelei, Stryker's older sister, was busy stirring a pot of something.

"Hey Stryker, Spark. Did you find Bob."  
"No, not today," Spark sighed.  
"That's a shame. Well, I'm sure he's still out there. Can you give me a hand with dinner, please?"

While Spark took over the pot, Stryker set the table. Just as ey finished, the door slammed, and eir father stormed in, followed by eir mother. Both looked tired.  
"Good evening, Daddy," Spark said politely. "Hello, Mommy. How are you feeling?"

"Stupid overseers think they can cheat me out of my money," Jacobson Ember fumed.  
"I know, I know." Ella gently stroked her husband's arm. "Don't worry, we'll be fine."  
"Would you like something to eat, then?" Stryker asked, holding out a plate.

Ella suddenly whirred around in fury, nearly slapping the plate out of eir hands. "Don't talk to your mother like that, boy! Show some respect! No greeting from you when I first step into the house!? Where are your manners!?"  
"Mom, I'm not a boy-"  
"Don't use that tone with me!"

"Fine." Stryker calmly put the plate back on the table, doing eir best to hide eir growing anger. "Then, can you do the same for me?"  
"Again with this 'not a boy' bullshit?" Jacobson asked. "Drop it, now."

"Dinnertime!" Lorelei blurted out, as she quickly grabbed the pot from her sister's hands with a fake smile. "Come on, let's all sit down and have a nice family meal-"  
"Stay out of this, Lorelei!"  
"Don't talk to her like that!" Stryker barked. "You know what, I'm tired and I'm hungry. I don't want to put up with this right now."

"I'm sorry, dear," Ella whispered, taking her seat at the table. Across from eir parents, Stryker blinked back tears. This was not something to cry over. Ey were just going to eat with eir family, then tomorrow, go on another hunt with Spark for Bob.

"That was really scary," Spark muttered once the twins were done eating and sitting in their rooms. "I hate it when Mom gets all...oh, what's the word...worked up?"  
"I wouldn't call it that, but sure. Honestly, don't worry about it too much, I can take it."  
"But aren't they our parents? Shouldn't they love us for who we are? Even Lorelei messes up your pronouns sometimes."

"At least she's getting better at it. But yeah, I agree. Anyways, it's late. I think we should go to bed early so we can spend as much time as possible looking for that damned rat."  
Spark giggled. "You miss Bob just as much as I do!"  
"No I don't!"

"Yes you do. You love Bob!"  
Stryker gave eir sister a shrug. "Oh please...fine. They're a good rat and I guess they're pretty fun. But I don't _like_ like them!"

"Oh, alright. First thing tomorrow?"  
"First thing."

* * *

 _Clair Ivory, 17_  
 _District 12 Female_

* * *

 _Three weeks before the Reaping_

Clair sighed, staring at the closed door before them. Another job, gone. They had really tried hard with this one to be the perfect employee, they swear! Unfortunately, dumb luck had gotten the best of them once again.

Stupid dumb luck.

But cursing their misfortunes didn't give them money to feed themselves with, so Clair was back on the search, looking for a new opportunity. And that was hard. No merchants were out to hire some ragged street kid fallen from grace. Clair still had the remnants of their last paycheck, but that would be gone soon and then they'd be broke. Not an ideal situation.

Oh well. They hit rock bottom before. It was only a matter of building themself back up again, no matter how long it would take.

It was still pretty early in the day, so there were plenty of people about. In the middle of the street, Clair quickly narrowed their options down, singling out people they had yet to work for. At the same time, they had to be aware of what their reputation was, and it probably wasn't stellar.

After careful consideration, Clair decided that the fruit vendor was their best bet. He was busy stocking his cart as they approached. "Good morning, sir. May I help you?"  
"Are you looking for a job?"  
"Yeah. How could you tell?"

"I fired you got fired this morning," the vendor laughed and Clair grimaced. "Ah, don't feel too bad about it. I was actually looking for some help myself."  
Clair tugged on a strand of bright red hair, fingers crossed behind their back. "Are you offering me a job?"

The vendor just chuckled and Clair relaxed visibly. "Oh, thank you so much. I promise, I'll be responsible and punctual and I'll do everything you ask of me-"  
"That sounds good. First task of the day: just watch the cart for me while I go grab a few more things. I'll be right back."

Clair placed a hand on the cart to keep it steady. Right. They could do that. They stood there while people walked around them, peering into shop windows. Almost all of them were merchants, and they could actually afford these goodies.

For the most part, Clair was ignored. They remembered visiting some of these shops as a small kid, when everyone was rebuilding from the war and slowly putting their lives back together. This used to run through aisles while their parents chatted with the owners, and leave holding their mother and father's hand.

It wasn't that lonely out on the streets. Most people were friendly enough to say a quick hello, or wave. Plus, Clair had to learn to be self-reliant, and they had plenty of time to think over and assess their identity. It took them a while to figure it out, but they had finally settled into a label they felt comfortable with.

The vendor was back after an hour. "How is everything? Any customers?"  
"No, not yet."  
"You know, if someone wants to buy, you can make the purchase. You've handled money before, right?"

 _Whoops._ "Of course, I just...I just didn't know if you wanted me to be handling your money."  
"Hey, you work for me now, don't you?"  
"Right," Clair nodded.

The day went by slightly faster than usual. Clair handed out fruits, collected money, and helped move the cart around. Every single order they were given, they followed. When the streets were empty and everyone had gone home, the vendor began to close up his cart. He shoved the remaining money into his pockets.

Clair frowned. "Wait...don't I get paid?"  
"Scram, kid."  
"You said you were offering me a job!"

Clair almost jumped as a single coin came flying at their head. "Here," the vendor snarled. "I'll pay you when I feel like it."

Clair picked up the single coin, tucking it into the pocket of their old sweater. They turned around ad heading off without a word, in the search of somewhere warm to sleep. This wouldn't be enough to buy much food in the upcoming days and they weren't sure how far they could stretch what they had left. Clair sighed to themself.

Some days, it felt like the world was out to get them.

Oh well, things could've been a lot worse, right? They had a somewhat steady source of income, money, nobody was actually out to get them. They were independent, by themself, alone, with no friends or family left to love them...

Clair slid against the wall of the bakery and just sighed.

* * *

 **District 12 is finally done! Just a quick reminder, please be respectful of Clair and Stryker's identities and pronouns when reviewing. Intentional misgendering or any disrespectful reviews will not be tolerated.**

 **Three Reapings left to go! Next up is my personal favourite, District 10!**

 **-Vr**


	13. District 10: With Or Without You

**Trigger warning: mentions of gender dysphoria, misgendering, and self-harm in Argen's POV. Please proceed with caution.**

* * *

 _Argen DeAquilla, 18_  
 _District 10 Female_

* * *

 _2 months before the Reaping_

"Argen, sweetie, it's time to get up."

"I don't want to," Argen sighed, pulling the tattered blanket over his body. His hand was pressed against his chest and he sighed, feeling two large and matured lumps on his chest that really weren't supposed to be there but he had no way of getting rid of. Not with the money he had. And he didn't have a lot.

After a few more minutes, he finally crawled out of bed. His stomach rumbled, finally pleased he was going to get something to eat.

Brendon was already making breakfast. Good. Argen wasn't really in the mood to anyways.  
"Good morning sleepyhead."

Argen just yawned in response as he sat down. He muttered a soft "good morning" as he traced the marks in table with his fingers. He probably could be helping out, but it seemed Brendon had everything under control. Did that make Argen a bad boyfriend?

Brendon gave him a cracked bowl filled with oatmeal. Argen just nodded, picked up a spoon and dug in.  
"Your sister came by yesterday."

Argen's spoon fell from his hands and onto the table. "When?"  
"When you were sleeping. We didn't want to wake you."  
"You could've said something."

"Well, you're a grouch when I interrupt your beauty sleep," Brendon snickered. "But she couldn't stay long anyways. You know how...he...gets."  
Argen nodded. "Yeah...is she okay?"  
"She's fine. She brought us some eggs."

Argen shrugged into his oatmeal. Maybe he was the luckier one, now that Aerron DeAquilla no longer wanted anything to do with him, having cast him out years ago. It was too much to accept his eldest child, that Argen no longer wanted to be killed a "she". Unfortunately, he couldn't rescue Sameera. But he and Brendon were hardly getting by already. He scratched at a faint scar under his wrist, put there many nights ago after tossing and turning and crying his eyes out over the body and life he didn't have.

Some nights were easier than most. Last night had not been one of them.

Some nights, he drifted easily to sleep. Last night, the same old thoughts of hating himself, hurting himself, and wanting to be someoen else kept him dead awake.

"It's nice outside," Brendon mused. "Let's go for a walk."  
"I don't want to."  
"Well, why not?"

Argen folded his arms. "I don't feel like it."  
"I want to make the most of my days off. And you can't stay holed up inside the house forever. You need some fresh air."

Argen twisted a strand of bright blond, almost grey, hair. "What if everyone is staring at me?"  
"Nobody's going to stare at you, babe."  
"Yes they will."

Argen heaved a sigh, staring into his cold oatmeal. He felt his boyfriend wrap an arm around him. "Argen, please. You don't need to worry about it, alright? Nobody is going to judge you, and if anybody asks, you can tell them your identity and pronouns. I'm sure they'll understand."  
"No they won't."

"How do you know that," Brendon asked.  
"I just...do."

"Well, I'm going for a walk, and we need more groceries so we don't starve to death in the next few weeks. You're welcome to join me and I think you should. Or you can stay here, if you'd like."

Moments later, Argen was following Brendon out the door. He clung tightly to his boyfriend's arm as they visited various stores and stalls, collecting as much food as they could with Brendon meager paycheck. Argen waited impatiently as Brendon began to argue with the butcher or the price of a slab of meat, before they grudgingly shook hands and made the trade.

"Have a lovely day, young man," the butcher's wife called out. "And you too, miss."  
Argen's face began to flush and he absentmindedly raised a hand to his chest. "Um...I'm...I'm not a..."

For a moment, the butcher and his wife looked confused, but quickly corrected themselves. "Sorry about that. Have a lovely day."

"It's okay, babe," Brendon whispered in his ear as they walked off. "And I'm proud of you for standing up to himself."  
"Okay," Argen muttered softly, still clutching his chest, and overcome with a strange sense of dread, reminding him why he didn't want to leave the house in the first place.

The outside world was scary, full of people who didn't care who he truly was.

* * *

 _Red Belmont, 15_  
 _District 10 Male_

* * *

 _One week before the Reaping_

"Did they have to come?"

"Do you have a problem with that?" Red asked. His younger siblings stood behind him, Bale giggling hysterically and little Trina sticking her tongue out. "My parents made me bring them anyways."  
Peter cackled. "Sucks to be you, man. Siblings are a pain in the...behind."

"Hey, you're the baby of your family, you don't get to talk. So, what are we going to do today?"

Peter shrugged. "The farmer on the end of the street has new baby cows. But are we gonna get in trouble if they come along?" He gestured to Bale and Trina.  
Red scoffed. "Why, what did you have in mind?"

"Boys!" A shrill voice came from inside Peter's house as his older sister Brinely stormed out. "Are you out to give those sweet little calves a bad time? Red, you're supposed to be setting an example for these little sweeties here!"  
"Who are you?" Bale asked.  
Trina tugged on Red's sweater. "Baby cows! Can we go see the baby cows?"

Brinely threw her arms around the two boys and they both shrugged her off. "I'm coming with you."

Trina grabbed Red's leg; he picked her up and placed her on his shoulders. Bale pouted slightly, a little jealous he was too big for that sort of thing. At the field, the cows were all grazing about, ignoring their new visitors. Trina bounced excitedly on Red's shoulders. "Cows!"  
"Yes, Trina. Cows."

"Can I pet one?"  
Red shook his head. "They're not your cows."  
"But I wanna!'

"Hey Red! Check this out!" Peter ripped up a handful of grass and held his hand out over the fence. The nearest cow lumbered over, then began to pick the grass out of his hand. Bale quickly did the same thing. "Hey, hey cow! Over here!"

"Be nice!" Brinely scolded. "Cows deserve respect too!"  
"I was!"

"Red, can I feed the cows?" Trina asked. "Please, please, please, please?"  
Red lowered his sister, who ripped out a bunch of grass and sent the dirt flying everywhere. The cow didn't mind having to bend a little lower to reach the food. Trina giggled. "It tickles, Red!"

"Hey! What are you kids doing?"

"Oh crap," Red muttered under his breath as the old farmer came running out, waving his cane around. "Peter, what do we do?"  
"I dunno man, I've never met the guy before!"  
Brinely snickered. "Oooooh, you two are in so much trouble!"

The farmer scowled at them, throwing his cane down. "Get off my property and away from cows!"  
"Oh god!" Red scooped up Trina. "Come on guys, run!"

Peter grabbed Bale's hand and pulled him along. Brinely was right behind them. The farmer continued to chase them down. Luckily, Red could see his house in the distance, growing close and closer until they reached the fence. Peter and Brinely easily hopped over, before they turned back to help Red, Trina, and Bale over as well. The farmer just turned and left, muttering under his breath.

Brinely cackled, punching Red's arm. "I hope your parents kill you when they find out."  
"Nah. I'll just tell them it was your idea."  
"You wouldn't dare!"

"That was fun!" Trina laughed. "Can we do that tomorrow? I didn't get to see the baby cows!"  
"I don't think your parents will you, kid," Brinely chuckled, patting the younger girl's head.

Peter leaned up against the fence, panting heavily. "That was pretty awesome though. Who knew the old man had so much stamina in him?"  
"We weren't doing anything bad," Bale pouted. "I don't know why he was so worked up about it."  
"Some people are just so touchy."

Red smoothed out his shirt and pushed his messy brown hair out of his face. "So Pete, still salty Bale and Trina came along?"

* * *

 **District 10! Anyone who knows me knows I love District 10!**

 **And for the record, Argen is a transmale, which means he identifies as male and uses he/him pronouns. Please be respectful of this when reviewing. Any intentional transphobic or hateful comments will not be tolerated.**

 **Now, we're down to the last two districts. District 9 is up next!**

 **-Vr**


	14. District 9: Crazy Talk and Crazy Dares

_Cleveland "Cleve" Garfield, 13_  
 _District 9 Male_

* * *

 _The day before the Reaping_

It was one of those rare moments where his family left him alone.

Cleve was out with his friends, lying at the top of a grassy hill, watching the clouds pass over the electric fence that cut them off from the rest of the world. Sometimes, Cleve wondered if he could just climb over it and escape into the uncharted land the Capitol was hiding from him.

But then, he'd be leaving everyone behind. And he wasn't entirely ready to do that.

"This is kinda boring," Ridge sighed. "You guys wanna do something?"  
Zinnia sat up and kicked her brother's arm. "You're disturbing the peace. I, for one, was enjoying myself."

Crocus sat up too. "I could push you down the hill. That would be fun!"  
"Boys," Florencia scoffed, shoving her hands under her head. Her hair was all spread out in the grass; Cleve thought she looked kinda cute.

"Do you think that if the fence was off, you'd climb it?" Ridge asked.  
Florencia shook her head. "Oh, no way. I don't want to leave my daddy all alone."

"I wouldn't leave my family either," Cleve agreed. "But it's not fair. It's their way of keeping us confined and pressed under their thumb. After all, Capitol trumps everything else, doesn't it?"  
Florencia pressed a hand to her mouth. "Cleve, that kind of talk could get you killed!"

"I know," Cleve sighed, cheeks burning slightly. "But...you guys won't tell anyone, right?"  
Crocus pretended to zip his lips together. "Your secret is safe with us."

"Do you ever wish you just had no responsibilities?" Ridge prodded, kicking a leg up to the sky. "Like, nothing to do?"  
"No homework?"  
"No chores?"  
"No babysitting!"

Cleve groaned. "Huh, that last one would be nice."  
"Indeed," Ridge laughed as Zinnia kicked him again. "Brothers," she muttered under her breath.

"It must be nice to have someone to hang out with all the time," Florencia mused and Cleve's cheeks flared up again. He liked how calm and peaceful her voice sounded. "Sometimes, I get a little lonely and I wish I had a brother or sister to play with."  
Zinnia shoved Ridge off her. "You don't want a brother. Trust me."

"Ah shit guys," Crocus interrupted; Florencia covered up her ears at such obscene language. "It's gonna rain."  
Cleve glanced up at the greying clouds overhead. "I think you're right."

Ridge was about to brush them all off, when a large raindrop landed on his forehead with a plop. None of the kids seemed too bothered, however. Rainfall in 9 wasn't that common anyways and in the humid air, it was downright refreshing. Cleve didn't feel the least bit chilly, but Florencia was shivering a little, wrapping her arms around her body.

"Are you okay?" Cleve asked her.  
"Oh, I'm fine. I probably should've dressed for this weather."  
"Do you want me to walk you home?"

Florencia giggled, her eyes briefly drifting to Ridge. Right. Cleve studied Ridge's face, but he couldn't tell whether or not the older boy noticed Florencia's not-so-subtle display of attraction. But to Cleve, a tornado could fling Ridge halfway across Panem and he wouldn't notice until it was too late.

"We should be getting home," Zinnia mused as her older brother pulled her to her feet. "See you guys tomorrow."  
"I'll go with you!" Florencia suddenly blurted out. "I mean...my house is a bit closer to yours, so..."  
Cleve and Crocus gave each other a side glance, before they both dissolved into a quiet laughing fit.

Once Cleve got home, the noise from inside could be clearly heard before he even reached the door. The second he did, he was nearly knocked to the ground by at least three tiny bodies. "Ow! Hey guys! What a warm welcome!"

"Cleveeeeeeeee!" Lonis grabbed his arm and began to tug. She had to shove her younger brother Cedric out of the way to do so. "Pick me up please!"  
"You're a big girl, Lonis! You can walk!" Cleve turned his attention to his other siblings. "Are Mom and Dad home?"

"Not yet," Oaker said, with little Sunny peeking out from behind him. "Will they be home soon?"  
"Probably. But I bet you're all starving! Who wants to help me make dinner?"

Cleve led the ragtag parade of tiny Garfields to the kitchen. Someone had put little Skimmia in her high chair while two of the triplets were arguing...again. The third one, Nastur, was pouting on the couch. Sedum, the second-eldest after Cleve, was missing, as usual. Probably off frolicking with his friends somewhere.

"Can I help?" Oaker asked, grabbing the handle of an old pan full of water and dragging it off the counter. Cleve quickly grabbed the handle and pulled it back before water could come splashing down all over his feet. Oaker pouted as Cleve gently pushed him out of the way with his leg, Lonis and Cedric still close behind.

"If you want to help, then maybe you can feed Skimmia for me. There should be some leftover mush for her in the cupboard. Lonis, Cedric, please, I need some space...oh, would you two stop fighting!? There's so much noise I can barely think! What's even the problem anyways!?"

Phlox gave his sister a shove. "She was the one who started it!"  
Canna shoved him back. "No I didn't!"

Cleve just sighed. "Alright, can you two just...I don't care who started it, but I want you to stop. Now, can you help me set the table and herd everyone over here? Mom and Dad will be home soon, so maybe we can surprise them by having a nice meal ready?"

Despite the chaos that came with direction a room full of younger kids, Cleve didn't mind. It was nice to have someone look up to him, rather than down because of his age. Responsibility could be exhausting, but when his parents thanked him for taking charge, they really meant it.

And though there were days he wanted to run away from the Capitol's tyrannical hands, he could never bear to leave behind everything he already had.

* * *

 _Lily Baudilair, 15_  
 _District 9 Female_

* * *

 _Reaping Day_

The second the words came out of Sonya's mouth, her eyes shot up and she pressed her hands together, unable to tear her gaze from Lily's face. "Wait! I didn't mean it!"

Lily cackled. "No take-backs!"  
"Lily, forget I said anything! That was just stupid of me."

"Well, it's too late now!" Lily chuckled, slapping her knee. "I suppose I have done worse dares, but this one...this one just takes the cake."  
Olive sighed into her oatmeal. "Why are you two like this? That was incredibly stupid! And Lily, to think that any of this is even close to being considered a decent idea-"  
"Dares aren't supposed to be good ideas!"

"But volunteering for the Hunger Games is the most idiotic thing anyone could ever do!"

Sonya panted a little, cheeks reddened by her sudden outburst. Lily scowled while Olive shrunk a little into her seat. Olive's mother was upstairs, completely oblivious to the row in her dining room. Lily didn't mind, because if the Mayor of District 9 told her off, then there really wasn't anything she could do.

"But the Games look so easy! Look at Paisley!"  
"She's off her rocker," Olive fumed. "She's getting engaged to a guy she's been dating for three months. I've seen her finances and she spends way too much money on depressants, therapists and tea. Mom says she has constant nightmares too. The her Games were really-"

Lily calmly sipped her juice. "Yeah whatever. Sucks for her, but I'm different."  
"Do you think this is a joke!?" Olive snapped, causing everyone to jump a little. "Some funny little game!?"

"It's in the title, isn't it?"  
"Please don't do this, Lily," Sonya begged, eyes watering. "I'll take it back, alright? I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, it was a dumb joke and can we please go do something else?"

Well, she could always go along with her friends and agree to put this whole matter behind them. That could solve it all right then and there. But that was not the Lily Baudilair way of doing things. She always had two choices at hand; go big, or go home.

Lily was not a big fan of the latter.

"Neither of you need to worry about me, alright? I'll be fine! 9's already won before with Paisley and Mark Giblet was the same age as me, so it's not impossible! I'll just avoid everyone and they'll all die out. Honestly. Not hard."  
"What if they try to kill you?" Sonya whispered fearfully.

"I know how to use knives, don't I?"  
Olive whistled. "Again, none of this is a good idea!"

"I think you and I have different ideas of good!"

Olive stuttered a little. Sonya just glanced up at Lily with tears streaming down her face. "I'm Lily-fucking-Baudilair and I don't back down to challenges! Never! I can't believe neither of you have any faith in me! Well, I'll sure as hell as prove you wrong! I'm gonna volunteer, and I'm gonna come back, just you watch! Forget this, I'm done!"

"Lily, no..." Olive whimpered as Lily pushed her chair back against the hardwood, making a loud screeching noise that drowned her best friend out. She stomped through the house and right out the door, no time to say goodbye to anybody.

Once in the street, her anger subsided and she felt a pit in her stomach. She made Sonya cry! All over what, her slightly bruised pride? A silly dare, taken way too far!?

 _I should go back and apologize_ , Lily thought, staring up at the Mayor's giant house. _But I'll see them at the Reaping. I can make it up there by volunteering. Once I win, this will all blow over and everything will be fine._

She decided to go back home. Everyone was out and about, but Lily kept to herself, hurrying through the streets. She kept her head down, as if everyone was staring into her, like they knew her plan. She felt a little shame, being so childish over a dare.

Lily giggled to herself. That was what made dares so fun! There were risks worth taking in this world that would never change the entire world, but provide her and her friends with some good entertainment for a few hours. She got to experience so many things too. Would she ever realize what worms tasted like if it hadn't been for Sonya's wicked ideas? Would she have learned the importance of not touching the fence around the district if Sonya hadn't come up with it?

She was still a kid of some sorts, after all. And she was going to have some fun while she was at it.

Once home, Lily quickly slipped up to her room. She decided to change into something a little more appropriate for the occasion, because she knew from watching Olive's mother that first impressions were beyond crucial. She ran a brush through her blonde hair to rid it of any tangles or knots. Her pride had fully repaired itself by then.

Lily giggled again, a little more hysterically than last time. This was going to be so much fun!

* * *

 **First TMH update of 2020! And we're almost done the Reapings too!**

 **What do you think of Cleve and Lily? Are you excited, that we've now been introduced to almost all the tributes! One more Reaping left to go!**

 **-Vr**


	15. District 3: Sneak

**Trigger warning: mentions of prostitution, drugs and underage drinking in the first POV. Please proceed with caution.**

* * *

 _Astrid Balan, 15_  
 _District 3 Female_

* * *

 _Ten days before the Reaping_

"Astrid, where are you going?"  
"Out," Astrid replied nonchalantly, turning the handle slightly.

Ester placed her hand on your hips. "You're hanging out with those sluts again, aren't you?'  
"You know, Mom, they don't really appreciate you calling them sluts."

"You know how I feel about this Astrid! I don't want you going out there!"  
"I don't care! They're my friends and you can't keep me here all night!"  
"Astrid Balan, come back inside right this instant-"

Astrid slammed the door shut, cutting her mother off. She tore down the streets, weaving through the crowds of tired factory workers going to from and their shifts. She ducked into a dark alleyway and waited. A familiar shadow slid across the side of the building, but Astrid wasn't scared. She knew exactly who it belonged to.

"Where is everybody?"  
Lydia plucked some lint off her jacket sleeve. "Hell if I know."  
"It's more fun with them."

"They'll get here when they get here." Lydia perched on top of a wooden crate. "Damn stiff. Tried to rip me off last night. Said I'm only worth about ten coins."  
"Hey now, I say you're worth twenty! Don't let anybody tell you different."

The two friends laughed. After a few more minutes, they were joined by another pair of teenage girls. One of them carried a case of alcohol under her arm while the other was smoking a blunt with a bag of pills sticking out of her pocket.  
Lydia threw up her hands. "Bring out the booze!"

The alcohol was quickly passed around. Astrid took a quick sip, feeling a slight buzz. "Aw yeah, that's the stuff. Excellent choice, Layla."  
"Hey, only the best for my girls." Layla chugged nearly half of her own bottle. "I'd never let any good friend of mine drink that nasty cheepo shit."

"We are sooooo gonna regret this tomorrow!" Lydia cackled, dropping her head in her hands. "Oh, I can feel it kicking in already. Better than what those rich bastards stock in the fridge."  
"Hey!" Astrid jumped as Emana suddenly threw her arms around her. "What are you doing?"

Emana slowly waved the bag of pills in Astrid's face. "Look what I scored."  
"Where did you get those?"

Emana shrugged; her breath reeked of Layla's drinks. "From someone who doesn't need them." She pulled out a small blue pill and pressed it into Astrid's hand. "Don't worry, they're safe."  
"As safe as any old pill from your medicine cabinet can be." Layla scoffed, opening up a second bottle. "I don't mess with that kind of stuff. You never know."

Emana delicately placed the pill onto her tongue. Astrid just watched, entranced. With alcohol, she had way less restraint, because she knew exactly how it messed her up and the wicked hangover she was sure to have tomorrow. Hangovers sucked, whether it was her first or tenth. But they were a necessary price to pay for entertainment.

Drugs, those little ovals of the rainbow that Emana liked to play with...those were a different story. A new trip each time. Some of them were hilarious, some were downright terrifying. There was a small part of her that wanted to say no, finish her drink, and call it a night. Yet, she wondered what exactly she might be missing out on.

One small dose, couldn't hurt, right?

Astrid plucked the tiniest pill, a little red one. It tasted funny, but she quickly swallowed it, washing it down with some alcohol. Emana was already out of her mind, with Lydia and Layla watching on in anticipation. At first, Astrid felt nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe that one was a dud.

Until the whole world began to sway.

She was flying and falling at the same time, and everything was annoyingly bright. Lydia poked her arm, her eye sockets dripping a sick pink liquid and her teeth turned into a hundred little ants that fell from her lips. Astrid wanted to cry and laugh and watch as her hands melted into all sorts of weird shapes. And then she falling even further this time, into the hold-riddled arms of a strange, cartoonish figure that sounded a lot like Layla.

"Woah there! You alright, Astrid? Astrid!?"

Astrid panted heavily, sweat running down her face. "Am I still tripping?"  
"You could be. Do you feel okay?"  
Astrid gently ran her fingers down Layla's forearm, checking for holes. "I've been through worse. How's Emana?"

Lydia grimaced. "Still hasn't come down yet."  
"She'll be fine. Can someone get me another drink?"

The cold bottle was pressed against her lips and Astrid took a big gulp. She was beyond tipsy now, and the pills definitely wasn't going to help her sober up anytime soon. Yep, at this rate, she'd have a hell of a hangover the next day. For sure, her mother was going to be pissed at her. Hell yeah she wanted to do this again.

Too tired for any other antics, Astrid just lay up against Layla's shoulder, holding Emana's hand as her friend continued on in her little drugged-out world.

Maybe her mother didn't approve of this this kind of life, but it was loud, it was fast, and it was colourful. There was always something to do, someone to chat with, and a sense of thrilling danger hidden inside each little bottle and pill.

Astrid was in no mood to ever give it up.

* * *

 _Gear Griswald, 12_  
 _District 3 Male_

* * *

 _Two months before the Reaping_

Class was over. Gear lingered right by the door, waiting for Coyle. The two of them liked to walk home together whenever they could.

So it was a bit surprising when Coyle came up from the opposite direction, a ten year-old girl holding his hand. "Hey Gear. Ready to go?"  
"Does she have to come?"

"Coooooooyle! Not fair!" Roslynn tugged her older brother's arm.  
Coyle flashed Gear an awkward smile. "Yeah sorry. You don't mind, right?"

"Let's just go."

The school hallways were as crowded as they always were. Unlike Coyle and Gear, many kids stayed after school for various activities and clubs available. Coyle made a bit of small talk, but Gear just ignored everyone keeping his head titled slightly downwards.

"Hey Gear, I heard they're gonna start up a robotics club soon! I'm thinking I might join."  
"Good for you."  
"Wanna join? It'll be fun!"

Gear shook his head. "And hang out with all these older kids who insist their way is the right way? It's more fun with a smaller team. Like you and me."  
"Come on Gear! You never do anything after school! And I bet we can get a lot of cool tips from the older guys."

The club didn't sound so bad, but the idea of so many people trying to make themselves heard in a single classroom was just too overwhelming for Gear. "It does sound a little fun, but not really for me. Plus, you know how my mom is. You can go if you want. But I think I'll have to pass."

"What club!? Can I join the club?" Roslynn grabbed Coyle's arm again. "Coyle, let me join the club or I'll tell!"  
"Ughhhh, no you're not!"

Gear listened to the two siblings bicker for a few moments. "Are you guys done? Everyone is staring!"  
Coyle gave his little sister a shove. "It's all her fault."  
"I'm telling Mom!"  
"No you're not!"

"Come on guys!" Gear tried to pull Coyle off Roslynn. "Can you please fight outside? Where nobody can hear us?"  
Once they were finally out of school, the bickering died down. Coyle and gear said their goodbyes before heading off in opposite directions, Coyle dragging a stubborn Rosylnn along with him. Once Gear was home, he was suddenly ambushed by his mother who began to pinch his cheeks.

"Gear, where have you been!? I thought I told you to come straight home after school! If you keep abusing my trust like this, I'm going to start picking you up everyday and you'll have to tell Coyle you can't walk home with him anymore."  
"Sorry Mom, we got a little sidetracked."

"Well, don't do it again. Do you have any homework?"  
"Yes. And I'm going to go do it now."

Up in his room, Gear finished his homework, just like every other day. Then, he flopped onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Maybe joining a school club wouldn't be too bad, because Coyle was going to be there. But then again, his mother was very adamant he come straight home after school every single day. Those were the rules in the Griswald household.

Though Gear always thought that same rules were meant to be broken.

There was a knock on the door. "Gear, are you in there?"  
"What is it?"  
"Meet me in the backyard in ten minutes. We're going to do some exercises."

Gear sighed. "No, Uncle Ollie. I'm not in the mood."  
"I don't care if you're not in the mood, boy! You need to be strong and capable! What if you need to protect yourself or your mother? Don't you want to be able to do that?"

Tossing and turning, Gear grabbed his pillow and placed it over his head. He could hear his uncle stomp into his bedroom, probably standing over him. "Gear, I'm just looking out for you."  
"We'll do it some other day-"  
"You say this every single time."

"Ollie!" There was his mother. "Leave my son alone! You're not allowed in his room!"  
"Come on, Nadia!" Uncle Ollie's voice trailed off. "We've been over this..."

Gear carefully removed the pillow from his face, placing it back behind his head. he still had a few hours before dinner. Shoving up his blankets to give the impression of him sleeping, he opened up his window before dragging stool over and climbing out of it. He quickly kicked the stool to the side before he crawled into the branches of the old tree growing right next to his room. Gear then slid down the trunk.

Once he was safely on two feet and a far enough distance away, he stopped caring about noise altogether. Gear ran down the familiar path he knew would take him to Coyle's house. He knew his mother would freak if she found out her darling little boy was doing something as unsafe as climbing out of windows and down trees. But she didn't need to know. As long as he was back home before she called him for dinner, his secret was safe.

And Gear was always on time.

* * *

 **And the Reapings are finally done! What do you think of our last two tributes? Of all the tributes so far? Which ones stood out to you the most?**

 **Now, it's time for a check-in! Like with most of my SYOTs, this one will have a few check-in questions to be answered during the story. This chapter's check-in question is:**

 **If your tribute could have any animal as a pet, which animal would they choose?**

 **Please PM me the answer either on Discord or Fanfiction. If you have more than one tribute in this story, answer the question for all of them.**

 **Next chapter will be a quick recap with Taurus and Sterling as they discuss the Reapings! Stay tuned for that!**

 **-Vr**


	16. Reaping Recap: Who Are You?

**I am still missing check-ins for the following tributes:**

 **Toren Kollath**  
 **Bellona Peirce**  
 **Gear Griswald**  
 **Astrid Balan**  
 **Haruhi Maki**  
 **Adella Kerrick**  
 **Corbyn Reid**  
 **Amelia Williams**  
 **Charles Thomson**  
 **Zilla Odbody**  
 **Darra Delaney**  
 **Twill Chintz**  
 **Claodis Omicron**  
 **Lily Baudilair**  
 **Red Bellmont**  
 **Acacia Hazeldine**  
 **Clair Ivory**

 **Please see the author's note at the end of Chapter 15 for the check-in question. You can submit it to me either through PM or on Discord.**

 **Trigger warning: a little bit of deadnaming referring to Argen.**

* * *

 _Taurus Blackman, 41_  
 _Head Gamemaker_

* * *

Once he shut the door, Taurus dumped and armful of papers on the conference table unceremoniously. Sterling raised an eyebrow, but did not comment. Had it been anyone else, he would've given them a nice verbal lashing about respect and formality.

Taurus, on the other hand, usually didn't care about that kind of thing. It was a long day and after running twenty-four background checks, there was a lot to unpack.

"Who do you to start with?" Taurus asked, straightening up his papers. "We do have a lot to consider."  
"Start in district order." Sterling fixed up his tie.

"Right. So the first one I have here is Stravos Brodie. Normal family life, mediocre grades, and he's the grandson of Jackson Brodie, who apparently had mob connections in District 1. Anyways, that group was responsible for all the bar fights that led to gambling rings being declared illegal, but we do have reports of Stravos being seen in them."

Sterling just pressed two fingers against his forehead. "Well, I certainly didn't expect this. I'll have to have a talk with Mayor Glissner and see if we can take a look at shutting those rings down for good. I will not have the district tainted by them. As for his district partner?"

"Elise Starbright's parents and relatives were very open Loyalists and we believe this may have led to her mother being targeted and murdered by rebels. She's apparently very into theatre and acting, not much else to report. Thankfully, no other incidents targeting her based off her support for the Capitol."

"And they were both reaped, correct?" Sterling asked. "District 1 hasn't had a volunteer since Leonidas Argyris two years ago."  
"Yes sir, both were Reaped. As for District 2, on the other hand..."

Taurus quickly flipped through his papers. "Toren Kollath. His family had rebellious connections, though were killed by Peacekeepers. Adopted by a neutral family, was enrolled in Claymore Reagans's Peacekeeper training academy. No apparent connected for the boy he volunteered to take the place of and I can't find a motive either."  
"Keep an eye on him." Sterling's voice was firm. "As for the girl?"

"No indication was to where or not Bellona Peirce's parents were rebellious or Loyalist, but both were killed during a rebel raid in District 2. Her brother apparently was killed by untreated bacterial infection. She too is also enrolled in Reagan's Academy, though not a volunteer. Supposedly, she has expressed anti-Capitol sentiments, so I want to keep watch over her as well."

"Damn shame," Sterling sighed and Taurus had to agree. "We've given 2 so much. We can't have a Victor badmouthing us like this, especially with so much tension in the country already, so do what you need to do. I trust you to handle this properly, Taurus."  
"Considering Honouria, I don't think 2 will be that upset," Taurus mused.

"How about District 3?"  
"This is interesting. Gear Griswald is the only son of Oyl Griswald who was a prominent rebel leader and suspected to have been executed, although no traces of his body has ever been found. No incidents or anything of the sort involving Gear. High grades, lives with uncle and mother...that's about it."

Taurus pushed Gear's file aside. "His district partner is Astrid Balan. Father was killed in a factory fire ten years ago, and she has been out of school since the age of 13. There have been several incidents involving Peacekeepers and a public lashing recently. Nothing related to rebel activity, but I'm surprised that in 3 of all places...well, they've always been very competitive when it comes to education."

"Just make sure she isn't constantly acting out," Sterling advised. "How about District 4?"

"We have Haruhi Maki. Nothing too suspicious. Average grades, no family drama, though he does take spearfishing classes. Very involved in the fishing community of Four."  
"How about the girl?"

"Adella Kerrick's father owns a trinket store; he's known for collecting beached items, refurnishing them, and selling them. As for her mother, Leona Kerrick went missing nearly nine years ago. No rebellious connections, no motives, witness, or suspects. Very strange case."

Sterling rubbed his chin. "Can you investigate this further?"  
"I will try my best, sir."

Next was District 5. Taurus quickly read over Amelia Williams's profile. "Okay, now this is interesting. Her father has apparently not been in the picture at all, and her mother's had employment at a lot of strange places. She currently works in a power plant, and Amelia has taken up a part-time shift alongside her three years ago. And it says her she was diagnosed as bipolar at the age of 11."

"Really?" Sterling asked. "Is that even..."  
"I suppose so, sir. No recorded medications or anything that she's taking for it, but it's up to her mentor if he wants to convince us to provide something. As for Corbyn Reid, not too much to say. Still in school, not employment, decent grades."

"How about District 6?"

"Charles Thomson is the son of a very well-known chemist in District 6. His report good is pretty interesting and he apparently is very interested in toxicology. There was a history of chemists in 6 developing chemical weapons to use against Peacekeepers and several labs shut down because of it, though his family does not appear to be connected to them at all."

"We can't take any risks. Run a further investigation to be sure."

"Of course," Taurus sighed. "And as for Zilla Odbody, her father was killed in a car accident eleven months ago. The driver has been charged and 's also at the top of all her classes, so these are some very high grades."

Sterling rubbed his chin again. "Let's discuss District 7. The girl, Miss. Delaney. She is related to a previous tribute, correct?"  
"Yes sir. Her younger brother Jonah was reaped at the age of 13 for the 6th Hunger Games. She dropped out of school by the age of 15 and has worked as a lumberjack since. No further incidents."

"Well, we've got that going for us. You said you found some interesting information about the boy?"

"Veles Dragomir's parents perished in a severe flooding District 7 experienced a while back. He's been associated with a thieve guild located in 7 that the authorities have a hard time dealing with. His sister was murdered two years ago. Nobody has ever been suspected or charged."

"Well, they're not rebellious, but I prefer to have a Victor that doesn't have a life with crimes. Please keep an eye on both of them, should they act out."

"Will do." Taurus was starting to feel a little exhausted at this point. "I'm guessing we're moving onto District 8 now."  
"Proceed."

"First up, we have Claodis Omicron. All family members were listed as casualties in 8: her parents and three siblings. She lives in the district community home now, but has been reported often sneaking off to beg for money in a rather creative way. Ventriloquism."

"Well, as long as she isn't causing any harm by it, it's not a problem. And the boy?"  
"Twill Chintz also has no surviving family members. He's been reported spending a lot of time with a lot of older women or people with wealthy backgrounds. My guess is that he's a sugar baby of some sorts."

"Again, no harm, not a problem. Let's move on to District 9, where we've got a volunteer. What did you find about her?"

"About Lily Baudilair?" Taurus asked. "Well, we didn't find anything concerning, if that's what you mean. We're not entirely sure why she volunteered, but she does have a history of reckless behaviour, usually prompted on by someone."  
"You think her volunteering might just be a simple dare?" Sterling scoffed.

"Well, it's still a possibility. And I wouldn't be too surprised. As for Cleveland Garfield, he's the eldest of...woah...ten kids. His parents had him as teenagers. He dropped out of school two years ago and currently has a job working in the district fields."

Taurus shuffled his papers. "We do have an interesting case for District 10. A young woman by the name of Alexis DeAquilla was Reaped. However, we did some digging, and as it turned out Alexis is actually transgender, identifies as a male and goes by the name of Argen. Unfortunately, no legal records exist yet."

"Yes, I was noticing that at the District 10 Reaping. There was a young insisting on that name. Is there any connection?"  
"Not biologically. Maybe a friend of some sort. Anyways, Argen no longer lives with his family. Sir, I understand that given the issues we had after Miss. McArvin was Reaped two years ago..."

"Please exercise caution, Taurus." Sterling's voice broke slightly. "We can't have anymore riots breaking out."

"Right. As for Red Bellmont, his parents appear to have rebel ties, however they seem to have disowned most of them by now. He's the oldest of four kids, still in school, no active rebel activity. How would you like to approach this?"

Sterling was quiet for a few minutes. "Let it go. If his family chooses not to associate with rebels, then we won't punish them. Still keep a watch on him though."  
Another tribute to keep watch for, but Taurus nodded anyways.

"From District 11, we have Weller Worthen. He had a history as a rebel child soldier, and was released by Peacekeepers since it was assumed he was brainwashed by another commander. We think he might have several mental issues that have yet to be diagnosed. No surviving family, never been to school."

"Well, this is an interesting case. It doesn't look good for us from any angle."  
"I'm afraid it doesn't, sir. I'll leave the decision up to you."

Taurus gently pushed Weller's files aside. "And next up is Acacia Hazeldine. Her mother was killed a few years ago in a workplace accident after several safety conditions weren't met, if you remember that. You got rid of the mayor because of it. Her father hasn't been in a job since then, but she and her siblings are still in school, at least. Her twin brother works a part-time shift in the district orchards."

"And now we're down to our last District. Anything I should be aware of?"

"Stryker's files here say to use ey/eir/em pronouns. I hoped I said those right. Anyways, family has a long history of working in the mines. Eir mother also has a history of mood swings, but I don't believe they are violent enough to warrant Peacekeeper intervention."

"And the final tribute?"

"That will be Clair Ivory. Also says here to use they/them pronouns. They haven't had contact with their family in a while, not entirely sure why. It seems like they have been abandoned for some reason. Should we investigate it?"

"If you want, you can."

"Right." Taurus messily shoveled all his papers into a pile. "Anything else you'd like to discuss, sir?"  
"No. Let's just take care of everything we mentioned and you need to get back to your arena, don't you?"

"Further investigations, more throughout background checks. Got it."  
"Am I stressing you out old friend?"

Taurus shook his head. "Not the least bit. You are stressing me out by not letting me get to all the work you dumped onto my shoulders. Good day, President Snow."

Sterling just chuckled as Taurus slammed the door behind him.

* * *

 **A very wordy info-dump Reaping recap! Did you learn any new information about the tributes that surprised you? Are you surprised that some tributes volunteered, or that some tributes didn't? What do you no think of Sterling and Taurus?**

 **Finally, we're getting into the exciting stuff now! Next up will be the train rides with Stravos, Adella, Darra, and Claodis. Stay tuned for that!**

 **-Vr**


	17. Train Rides: Impressions

**I am still missing check-ins for the following tributes:**

 **Toren Kollath**  
 **Bellona Peirce**  
 **Gear Griswald**  
 **Astrid Balan**  
 **Haruhi Maki**  
 **Adella Kerrick**  
 **Corbyn Reid**  
 **Amelia Williams**  
 **Charles Thomson**  
 **Zilla Odbody**  
 **Darra Delaney**  
 **Twill Chintz**  
 **Claodis Omicron**  
 **Lily Baudilair**  
 **Red Bellmont**  
 **Clair Ivory**

 **Please see the author's note at the end of Chapter 15 for the check-in question. You can submit it to me either through PM or on Discord.**

* * *

 _Darra Delaney, 17_  
 _District 7 Female_

* * *

Every single ounce of strength in her was screaming for her to run. But Darra pout up no fight as the Peacekeepers hauled her towards the train. Her goodbyes had been said, and many tears had been shed. She was still in shock; she knew the odds, but she had never expected this to happen to her. Ever.

Not after they had already taken her little brother away years before.

She was going into the same pageant that killed him.

On the train, there were Peacekeepers everywhere. oh, for crying out loud! Darra would probably never get a single moment alone. The one silver lining was the way Veles would glare at the men in women in white, with absolute disgust. Hmmm. Maybe they could somehow bond over that.

Their escort quickly introduced herself as Allegro, with the promise of helping to bring them back home. As if. After nearly a decade of Games, and when was the last time District 7 ever got close to having someone make it to the end, let alone survive the entirety of the Games? What if the Gamemakers rigged things so there was no chance either of them could win?

What if Darra was being punished?

No, that didn't make any sense. She had no damn clue what she could've ever done to piss off the Capitol to the point where they'd somehow rig her name to be drawn. She couldn't be the only person in all of 7 who hated them. And why would President Snow even care for her anyways? Surely there were worse people to keep an eye on.

Veles scoffed. "Why are there so many Peacekeepers?"  
"It's a safety precaution," Allegro explained.  
"Who's safety?"

Darra snorted, but the question had completely flown over Allegro's head. "Well, I'd say it's to keep us safe. They're here on the President's orders. Apparently, it's something about a looming rebel threat...and unfortunately, I'm not allowed to know the specifics."

"Great," Veles muttered and Darra shuddered. It was no big secret that District 7 had been a hotspot for rebel activity lately. "You're not accusing us of anything, are you?"  
Allegro shook her head. "No, of course not! Well, I don't think either of you did anything to warrant this, right?"

"I'm completely innocent," Darra hissed. Veles said nothing.  
"Well, that's a relief. Let's get into mentoring. Would you two liked to be mentored together, or separately?"

"Separate," Veles muttered. Darra had to agree. Not that she didn't trust Veles, but she didn't know him either. She had to put all her energy into getting home. For her family and for Jonah.

"Sounds good; I can do that. Unfortunately, there's only me. So, how about this. Veles, I'll work with your for now, and Darra, I'll be with you after dinner. Does sound good to everyone?"  
"Sure," Darra said. "Can I watch the recap?"  
"Good idea! That will give you a chance to start thinking of allies!"

Allegro led Veles off to his bedroom while Darra switched on the TV. There were a few standouts almost instantly, mainly the boy from 2 and the girl from 9, both having volunteered. There was her and Veles, and a quick shot of her sobbing parents in the crowd.

God, this had to be tearing them apart.

How many children would the Capitol take from them before enough was enough?

Darra blinked back tears; she wasn't going to start crying in front of a bunch of Peacekeepers again. Maybe now would be a good time to scout for potential allies. She wanted someone older and maybe stronger, rather than plain old deadweight. She didn't mean to insult the younger kids, who definitely didn't deserve this at all, but she couldn't be allied with one of them, just for them too die in front of her.

So, that ruled out a whole bunch of tributes. Oh, and the volunteers. Why the hell would they willingly participate in this kind of thing!?

As Darra watched the recaps a second time, she finally made her decisions. Potential allies included the boys from 4, 5, 6, 8, and 11, as well as the girls from 2 and 12, and maybe that guy from 10. Oh, and possibly Veles, if he said yes, and she had nobody else to fall back on. Then again, that was based off physical appearance alone. Darra considered the possibility of allying with someone a bit younger, if they had some skills worth admiring. But the cut-off age would be 14. She just couldn't.

Planning, planning, planning. Darra needed to plan. She needed to come back for home to her parents and her sisters, who needed her more than ever. And she also wanted to stick it to the Capitol for dragging her here in the first place. Right back into this murderous hell, for of nightmares and horrible memories she thought she'd never have to relive.

They messed with the wrong District 7 girl for sure.

* * *

 _Claodis Omicron, 15_  
 _District 8 Female_

* * *

"What's up, Claodis?"  
"Oh, nothing."

"Nothing?" Sliver asked. Claodis continued to stare absentmindedly out the window at the very back of the train, watching the world go by over the green top of the forest. She had never seen so many trees before in her life.  
"Seems like something is bothering you."  
"Oh, I just miss my friends, that's all."

"Your friends..." Silver paused. "You mean your dolls, right?"  
"Well, I don't really consider them dolls. They're my friends!" Claodis curled up her fingers and lowered her voice to match Omi's, if he was beside her. "Hello again, Mr. Wirth! I can't believe we're meeting a second time!"

She suddenly felt a small pang in her heart. Right. She had been Reaped for the Hunger Games.

She didn't like this. It was such a jarring experience. Claodis had never left the district before, and she was perfectly content that way. It was her own little world; why on Earth did it need to be disrupted before? She was so happy with her friends, out and about, exploring the streets of Eight every single day.

Nothing in her life needed change. Nothing in her life needed such a big change.

Claodis dropped her arm limply at her side. "I can't remember the last time I've been without Omi. He's always been there for me. I've never had anyone else."  
"Well, maybe we can work together so you can go back home and see him again?"

"Yes! I'd like that very much! Then we go back to hanging out!"  
Sliver grimaced. "Well...Claodis, you understand what I'm trying to tell you, right?"

"I think I do..." Claodis let out a giggle, quickly correcting herself after she briefly slipped back into Omi's voice. "It's about a game."  
"It's not just a game. You've got to fight in there. With real weapons. And things are going to be deadly. You will have go up against 23 other kids and kill them if you want to win and go back home."

Claodis's smile faltered. "Yeah...well...I've seen people do it before. It looks easy..."  
"Are you sure? If you really want to survive..."  
"Um..."

"Let's talk strategy," Sliver suggested. "We've been over the recaps. Can you see yourself allying with any other tributes?"  
"I'm not sure. Twill seems really nice though!"  
"I suppose you could ask him."

Claodis nodded. From what she knew of Twill, he seemed easy to work with. He wasn't Omi, Coco, or Norcimo, unfortunately.  
"Anyone else."  
"I'm not sure yet. Maybe cone I meet more people I can start deciding that!"

"Sure. Do you have any experience with weapons? Maybe physical combat?"  
"Nothing."  
Sliver blinked. "Nothing?"

"You mean, like knives and stuff? Or punching someone so hard you knock them out?"  
"Well...you're a ventriloquist...can you throw your voice? Make it appear as if you can be heard from somewhere else?""

Claodis titled her head. "I could try!"  
"At least we're getting somewhere. I'm guessing for you, we might have to rely on sponsors a bit more."

"What's a sponsor?"

Sliver pressed his hands together in thought. "I was told that anyone in Panem can donate funds that can be used to buy gifts or supplies for tributes during the Games, courtesy of their mentor. If you remember, last year, someone slipped a Gamemaker a bribe to secure weapons for the Victor, Honouria Crass. The President introduced the system for this year so people can buy items for tributes, I think as a way to draw the suspense and action out. Ugh."

The Victor shook his head in disgust. Meanwhile, Claodis was thrilled. "Oh cool! If I show people how awesome ventriloquy is, then they'll want to sponsor me and buy me a new friend so they can actually see me do it for them!"

"Err...something along those lines...I'm not entirely sure I can get you a puppet though..."  
"I guess I better start practicing. It's gonna feel a little weird without Omi, though. But I'm sure I'll be fine!"

* * *

 _Stravos Brodie, 16_  
 _District 1 Male_

* * *

The second Foxy mentioned sponsors, Stravos began to scheme.

Not out loud, of course. He didn't want Elise to know. She was not the least bit happy about being here. Then again, neither was Stravos.

"So, that covers pretty much everything I was told. I'm still not entirely sure how it will be run, but I'd suggest appealing to the general public. You want sponsors. With them, we might be able to provide you with some valuable necessities. If you have any questions, hopefully I can answer them."

"How will you decide to split the funds?" Stravos asked.  
Foxy briefly glanced over at the District 1 escort, Benjamin, who answered for him. "Depends on a lot of factors, really. Cost, what each of you need, whether or not we receive a donation that's specific for one of you. But we can figure that out later."

Stravos frowned. Fuck. If there was going to be money involved, he wanted it all going towards him. It was much harder to swindle things when he wasn't allowed to see or touch it himself. At least in poker, he could watch as everyone else raised the pot.

Elise nervously tugged her hair. "So we've gotta get the Capitolites to like us. Okay...I'm good at that."  
"You are?"  
"I've done a lot of acting in school. That can help, right?"

Foxy nodded. "Yep. I'd say that would."  
Stravos was not in the mood not be outdone. "Yeah? Well, I'm a pro poker player!"

The conversation came to a screeching halt as all eyes fell on him.

Except nobody seemed pleased. "You're a minor," Foxy pointed out.  
"So? I've made a lot of money off of it."  
"Again, it's illegal."

Stravos shrugged. "I'm already in the Games and probably gonna die in the next three weeks. What are you gonna do about it?"  
Elise sniffed. "Ugh. That kind of cockiness is gonna get you killed."  
"Suck my dick, Starbright!"

"Enough guys!" Benjamin quickly jumped to his feet, forcing himself between both tributes. "Can we all try to be civil?"  
"Fine," Elise hissed. Stravos flashed her a smirk.

"So, we should probably take a look at forming an alliance." Foxy was clearly trying to take back control of the situation. "Claymore and Honouria already told me they want to bring the One-Two alliance back again. Do you two think you can handle that?"

Stravos nodded. He had seen the way District 1 and 2 always banded together, and it had been successful last time. Plus, maybe he could convince Toren and Bellona to side with him over Elise as he wormed his way into leading the whole pack, controlling their every move to guarantee his survival. So, why not?

"Are there any other tributes you think you should watch out for?" Benjamin asked.  
"The girl from 9," Elise said almost immediately. "She volunteered, so...she must be really confident. Could be dangerous. But maybe that's what she wants us to think."

Stravos knew exactly what tribute he needed to keep his eye on. But he had a feeling nobody would like his answer, so kept his mouth shut.

"Toren volunteered too," Foxy gently reminded Elise. "And I like the way you think, about putting on an act to appear as more of a target."  
Elise blushed. "I'd say a lot of the older tributes too, because if they're physically stronger, I might not be able to take them on in a fight if I have to."

Hmmmm. That was news. Stravos knew he wasn't the strongest guy in the room, but if Elise wasn't either...

His plan was simple. He needed the majority within his alliance, keeping them all at arm's length in case any of them tried to kill him. Toren and Bellona both seemed pretty strong. Maybe he could convince them to pick everyone else off, so he wouldn't have to risk getting his hands dirty. Not that Stravos thought blood was disgusting...well, it kinda was, but he wasn't afraid of it.

But why take the risk?

What he needed was sponsors. More sponsors with Elise. Once he had the audience sitting in his hand like chips on the table, then he could strike, take his allies out, and go back home to go play in more underground betting rings like a kid in a candy store.

Too bad Elise was playing with her cards flat in the open, for him to see. Too bad Stravos wasn't going to tell her.

* * *

 _Adella "Dell" Kerrick, 16_  
 _District 4 Female_

* * *

She dreamed she was standing an a beach.

The waves crashed down, water flowing onto the wet sand. It reached her ankles, yet she couldn't quite feel it. She was barefoot too, wearing a pale blue sundress with white flowers.

Small objects washed up onto the shore. A small bottle of sand. A conch shell. An old rag. That damn teapot. A book filled with seaweed.

The kinds of things her father might collect.

He was right behind her too, watching the bounty wash up, so he could swoop down and take it all for himself. He didn't even notice Dell standing there. Or maybe he was ignoring her. he was focusing on a large ship in the distance, where Dell could see some of her classmates and people she knew around the district throwing things overboard.

A large porcelain doll was pushed up to her feet. Dell grimaced at the sight of it. It was her. A miniature version of her. With the exact same dress, same hairstyle and large eyes that stared vacantly back up at her face. Dell picked up the doll, cradling it in her arms.

Then, as hard as she could, she tossed it back into the ocean.

Dell couldn't explain the immense satisfaction she felt, watching the doll bob up and down. Until her father grabbed her by the shoulder, suddenly pulling her back. She glanced up at him, and noticed he was hefting a broken beer bottle over his head. She tried to scream, but her voice got caught in her throat as he brought the bottle down, narrowly missing her face.

"Stop!" Dell finally screamed as the waves poured over her head. She began to choke on the water as it filled her lungs. She couldn't breathe...

Her father let go of her as the water carried her way towards certain doom. Dell began to wail in horror one last time as the waves forced her back...

Then she was awake, lying across an unfamiliar bed, in a damp pool of her own seat, inside a dark room that felt like it was moving. Right, She was on a train. A train speeding off towards the Capitol to cart her towards her death. Dell leaned over to pick up her pillow, which must've fallen off the bed at some point during the night.

She remembered crying in the Justice Building, because as much as she and her father argued, she wasn't ready to say goodbye to him just yet. She wanted to stay in 4 with him and help him run his shop, even if it meant never asking him about her mother again for the rest of her life.

Yet here she was. Trapped here with a bunch of strangers. One who could kill her, two who pretended to care about her, and all these Peacekeepers. They made her feel small, in their sleek white outfits and they way she could see her reflection in their helmets.

Dell quietly crept up to her window. It was dark, yet she could still see the trees. They were all a blur now. She missed the salty smell of the ocean. The smell of home. There was always a sense of excitement, watching things wash up onto the sand that her father would pick up and carefully expect. Dell remembered her younger self dragging these treasures up to him so he could congratulate her skills.

Finally, she was breathing a little more normally now, the shock of the nightmare finally wearing off. Yep, Dell currently was not drowning in an ocean she had never visited, haunted by a doll that looked way too much like her for her own comfort. That was all, just a dream. Just a dream, right?

Dell carefully cracked her door open, careful to not wake any of the other sleeping passengers on the train. The fuzzy blue slippers she had been provided with helped to soften her footsteps. She sat down on a couch in front of the television, pressing her feet against a pillow. She felt the cool air of the train rush over her, ridding her of some more sweat. It felt nice.

"Who's there?"  
"Just me," Dell yawned. "Why are you awake?"

Haruhi shrugged, fiddling with a loose thread on his purple robe. "Because I heard some noises."  
"Oh. Sorry about that."

"It's fine. Um...am I interrupting something?"  
"Nope."  
"Then what are you doing?"

"I'm just chilling." Dell stretched. "Don't worry about me, I'll go back to bed later."  
"Well, now that we're both awake..."

Haruhi trailed off, but she knew exactly what he wanted to ask. Huh. And she thought Haruhi was gonna try and kill her right off the bat. "I'd love to."  
"You didn't even let me finish. I was going to ask if we could form an alliance. But if that's what you want, then it works for me."

* * *

 _Current Alliances:_

 _Career Pack With Issues:_ Stravos, Elise Toren (?), Bellona (?)

 _Team District 4:_ Haruhi, Elise

* * *

 **Looks like some alliances are starting to form. Do you think they will work out? Which other tributes do you think will ally together?**

 **Next chapter will be the Parade, with Argen and Clair! Hopefully, that will be up either at the end of February or beginning of March!**

 **I don't have much else to say here lol. See you all next chapter!**

 **-Vr**


	18. The Parade: Attention

**I am still missing check-ins for the following tributes:**

 **Toren Kollath**  
 **Bellona Peirce**  
 **Gear Griswald**  
 **Astrid Balan**  
 **Haruhi Maki**  
 **Adella Kerrick**  
 **Corbyn Reid**  
 **Amelia Williams**  
 **Charles Thomson**  
 **Zilla Odbody**  
 **Darra Delaney**  
 **Twill Chintz**  
 **Lily Baudilair**  
 **Red Bellmont**  
 **Clair Ivory**

 **Please see the author's note at the end of Chapter 15 for the check-in question. You can submit it to me either through PM or on Discord.**

 **Trigger warning: mild dysphoria in Argen's POV.**

* * *

 _Argen DeAquilla, 18_  
 _District 10 "Female"_

* * *

The Capitol was not what he had been expecting. From the outside, it looked like a rainbow blur. It was very colourful, much more than District 10. Red seemed absolutely excited. For Argen, it was a little overwhelming. The city was, in a way, looming right over him.

"That's so cool!" Red gushed, face mushed up against the window.  
Arley scoffed, sipping a mug of black coffee. "Yeah, sure. Don't get your panties in a twist, kid."

Argen felt a bit like the odd man out. Red was pretty energetic for a kid, and maybe Argen might've considered allying with him, because he wasn't sure he had anyone else who'd be interested. And wasn't that kinda weird? He was practically a grown man, and he wanted to be allies with a 15 year-old boy.

And then Arley, their mentor, was another issue. Half the time, Argen had no clue how to respond to her. Should he try to sass her back? Shrug her off? Take offense? Ughhhhhh. He was still a nervous wreck from yesterday, and this was not helping. There were just so many tributes that looked so much stronger than him!

"What are we doing here, anyways?" Red asked, peeling his face off the window.  
"You're gonna get dressed up for a fancy parade where you get shown off to everyone like trinkets." Arley knocked back the last of her coffee. "Fun, fun, fun. Hope you like sparkles, kids."

Argen gulped. "Do I have to?"  
"You don't really get a choice. It's not even that long anyways; it's like half an hour."  
"Okay...but I don't...I just don't think I'd be very comfortable in a dress..."

Arley's face softened. Even Red gave him a sad glance. God, Argen wished Brendon was here to help him sort this whole mess out. But Brendon wasn't here, was he?

"Do you want me to talk with your stylist?" Arley asked with an usual calmness to her voice. "We can try and work something out for you. Time is short, but I can try to squeeze in and-"  
Uh...no, no, no...it's fine...I can do it..."

Inside the Remake Centre, Argen huddled nervously in place, wearing a little blue robe. There were three men as his prep team, and they seemed nice enough, if a little intimidating. Argen had never seen someone with such pink hair, or face tattoos, or heck, silver stag antlers coming out of their head.

And he had never had such a bath before.

Argen nervously clutched the robe together right over his chest (thank goodness his prep team didn't comment), then crossed his legs. He was excepted to wait for his head stylist, whoever they may be. Now, he had time to mull over the Parade. It sound cool, and also terrifying.

He wished he was back home with Brendon.

Eventually, there were footsteps. "Hello! Argen, right?"  
"Yeah...that's me?"

He was met with a man probably somewhere in his late forties, with jet black hair streaked with gold, and bright blue eyeliner. "Hey Argen. I'm your stylist, Philo. How are you feeling?"  
"Um...I don't know..."  
"Hmmmm...well, alright? Ready to see your outfit?"

Argen felt uneasy. "I'm not sure."  
Philo laughed. "Are you worried it's gonna suck?"  
"No, it's not that..."

"Don't worry, you're in good hands. I've been in the industry for almost twenty years now. Trust me, I'm one of the most qualified stylists here!"  
Argen just nodded. he wasn't ready to tell Philo why he felt so nervous.

But after a quick change into his outfit, Argen had a feeling that things wouldn't be so bad after all. He was wearing a sleek white suit with silver accents. Philo helped him to adjust his black tie, then place a matching tophat on his head. It was cool, fashionable, and comfortable. he studied his reflection in the mirror, and he felt satisfied with it. Maybe Philo did understand him after all.

"See!" Philo patted him on the back. "What did I tell ya?"  
"I thought you'd give me a dress or something..."  
"Oh, so you admit to doubting me! I always pay attention to my tributes's needs, and you are no exception!"

Argen couldn't help but smile as his cheeks warmed up. he pushed up his hat a bit so he could see better, feeling the fabric of the suit rub up against his wrists. He shifted himself in his pants a bit, which felt rather tight. But in a good way.

As dreadful as this whole Hunger Games experience was, he did have people who cared about him and his identity.

He hoped Brendon could really see him now.

* * *

 _Virgo Blackman, 20_  
 _Daughter of the Head Gamemaker and University Student_

* * *

Normally, she wouldn't be allowed up here.

But a simple slip of her last name and the security guard's demeanour instantly dropped. Virgo tucked her sketchbook under her arm as she passed through the hallway crowded with some of the more important people in the Hunger Games business. Gamemakers and their families, news reporters, stylists, the business sector, and others too.

It would be really awesome to talk to the stylists and show them her latest designs and concepts.

She eventually came across a teenage boy sitting in a booth all by himself. He had with him a glass of juice and was busy writing in a little journal. Instantly, Virgo recognized him. Her family was good friends with his family after all. And she was especially close to his older sister.

"Hey Ander! What are we doing?"  
Alexander Snow scowled. "Don't call me Ander!"

"Okay fine, whatever! What's that?"  
"It's nothing! Go away!"

Virgo scoffed. "Okay, Ander. Where's your sister."  
"Don't know, don't care. Probably with her fiance somewhere."  
"Ugh. Then who am I supposed to watch the Parade with?"

Alexander groaned loudly as Virgo sat across from him. An Avox quickly showed up to collect orders and managed to deliver their drinks in record time, bringing Virgo a strawberry daiquiri and Alexander some fruit punch.

The Parade was about to begin.

District 1 was up first. Elise wore a strapless floor-length dress that was a bright white, with faint yellow highlights. A gold tiara sat on her head. She carried herself regally, waving formally at the crowd. Stravos was on the other side of the chariot, as far away as possible from her. His suit was black with purple sparkles, and he wore a gold tie and matching earrings. He pointed finger guns and blew kisses to everyone else as he passed them by.

"Damn, what a sleezeball," Virgo sneered. "She looks nice though."

Next was District 2. Toren wore a very form-fitting grey suit that had a faint print of the District 2 seal on it, and his hair was obviously gelled back. He was smiling and waving, but his body seemed stiff and there were some very faint sweat beads on his forehead. Bellona's dress was a shimmery and ruffly blue, opened up in the front to show off her legs and trailing on the chariot behind her. All she had the energy to do was scowl.

"He volunteered, right?" Alexander mused. "I always wondered why tributes would do that. It would be awesome if I could interview him to find out."  
"Good luck with that, Ander."

In the District 3 chariot, Gear's black suit had neon green gear patterns on it that seemed to glow from Virgo's perspective. He smiled nervously at the crowd, rubbing his hands together. Astrid's dark red dress was very short and low-cut, which looked pretty amusing on her. She had on some very large silver high heels, it was amazing she didn't fall over in them. It was clear from the way she put her hands behind her heads and pushed out her chest. what kind of angle she was going for.

"Is that your type, Ander?"  
"What are you talking about!?"  
"You're blushing."

Alexander hid his face behind his napkin. "She just looks strange...I don't know...leave me alone!"

Virgo stopped teasing him long enough to focus on District 4. While she excitedly waved at the crowd, Adella's pale blue dress was strapless and stopped right at her knees, decorated with pearls. Her hair had also been elaborately styled, complete with little starfish clips and gemstones. Haruhi kept tugging at the collar of the white dress shirt he wore under a purple-blue tux, which was the only way Virgo could describe it.

Then came District 5. Amelia's outfit was pleasantly shocking; she had on a grey suit with a bright white tie, and brown flats. She giggled to herself as she gave the crowd small and innocent little waves. Corbyn was also wearing a suit. His dark green jacket had blue accents and was left open to reveal the white dress shirt underneath. As he stared the crowd down, Virgo noticed the shiny dangling earring in his right ear.

"I wouldn't have done brown shoes for both of them," Virgo mused.  
"You're not the stylist, are you?"  
"A girl can dream!"

Zilla from District 6 wore a pale blue dress that flowed out behind her, with a long white scarf hanging off her arms. She had a crown made of peacock feathers, and seemed rather confused by the whole experience. Charles's suit was a bright red with black accents and a black tie. He tapped his black dress shoes against the floor in the chariot in a rhythm as he studied the crowd. He also wore a crown, this one made of red feathers instead.

In the District 7 chariot, Veles's suit jacket was a forest green with a faint brown branch design woven into it. He wore a light green ruffly dress shirt. His arms hung limp at his sides as he took in everything around him with a deadpan face. Darra's sparkly black jumpsuit looked very tight on her, as she folded her arms, which were very conveniently revealing part of her chest, and scowled.

Virgo hummed. "Nice to see a break in the monotony. Something that isn't a suit or a dress."  
Alexander was ignoring the Parade by this point, writing in his journal again. "Yeah, whatever."

When District 8 approached, Virgo had almost thought the tributes had switched costumes. Claodis was wearing a light brown suit with darker liens running across it to give it a wooden pattern. A matching tophat sat on her head. Twill was wearing a poofy green ballgown with gold embroidery. Luckily, both tributes seemed to be rather good sports about the whole thing, waving to the crowd with smiles on their faces.

District 9 soon came rolling out. In comparison to some of the other chariots, Lily's purple dress covered up almost her entire body, complete wit ha long train and tight sleeves. Cleveland was wearign a light grey suit with a dark grey dress shirt underneath. Lily basked in the cheers of the crowd, while Cleveland frowned and kept tugging at his shirt, while writhing around in his pants.

Virgo had to admit, it was pretty funny to watch.

As the District 10 chariot moved out, Argen suddenly blushed and covered up his face. His suit was all white, with only a black tie and a black and white tophat, as well as a little bit of silver accents. Red looked like a cowboy, with his brown overalls, leather boots, and large hat. All he wore underneath was a white shirt. He would occasionally throw his hat up in the air as the crowd cheered him on.

Weller stood firm on the District 11 chariot, wearing a dark grey suit covered in green splotches, almost reminding Virgo of military garb. The large combat boots didn't exactly help either. Acacia's dress was white and flowy, stopping just above her ankles. It was decorated in gold jewellery and rubies. her gold makeup was also very noticeable as the camera zoomed in on her face.

Bringing up the rear was District 12. Clair seemed embarrassed to be wearing a strapless red dress that was decorated with flames. Stryker's suit jacket was all black, with a red dress shirt underneath. Ey excitedly jumped up and down, hyping up the crowd as much as possible.

All in all, Virgo had to admit that was pretty cool.

She down the last of her drink, before glancing over at Alexander to say something. He was already asleep, head lying on top of his precious journal.

* * *

 _Clair Ivory, 17_  
 _District 12 "Female"_

* * *

Clair scowled as they turned their back to their district partner. "Get me out of this."  
"Don't you want to-"  
"No. Get me out."

Stryker didn't argue and unzipped the back of Clair's dress. They quickly pulled it off as an Avox ran over and gave them a robe to keep them from walking around in nothing but their underwear. Suddenly, they felt so much better. Stryker just watched, with clearly no intention of changing out of eir clothes just yet.

Just Clair's rotten luck to get a stylist who refused to listen. Not that they hated dressing up, but that stupid rag they had been forced into just made them feel so weird. Definitely not the weirdest event of the night so far.

What exactly had Clair done to convince Snow they needed to be Reaped for the Hunger Games anyways?

They crowded into the elevators that would take them up to the District 12 floor. Stryker was with them. Clair decided they liked Stryker. Yeah, ey was cool. But if ey were smart, ey'd stay away from them. Clair didn't want their horrible life to rub off on Stryker and mess up anything for em.

The District 12 floor was nothing like they were expecting. It was huge. And there were beds. Beds! Clair couldn't remember the last time they had slept in a bed, Especially one as big as this. The pillows were big, and the blanket was even bigger. Just staring at it suddenly made Clair feel very tired.

Wouldn't it be nice to just go to sleep...

But first, they decided to take a nice hot shower. It felt good to clean so much grime and sweat and sparkles off them, another luxury they could rarely get in 12. They also spent way too much time playing with the different soaps and shower gels, each coming with a tantalizing smell of their own.

After trying maybe five soaps, Clair realized that combining the different scents would not make them smell any better, but was actually was too overpowering instead. Whoops.

Finally, they were lying in the warm bed, staring up at the ceiling. Clair suddenly didn't feel tired anymore. No, it was the opposite. They couldn't sleep. All they could do was look up at nothing. They felt worried. Worried about the following days to come.

There was a lot to be done. they needed to train and find a good weapon to use. They could be looking for allies, but no, maybe that wasn't a good idea. Instead, they were going to try and not accidentally piss people off. No Allies. Clair couldn't risk it. Knowing them, they would accidentally kill off their ally first thing. They weren't sure if they could risk bringing anyone's game down.

Such as Stryker. Clair knew from listening to em on the train that ey were searching for allies, even bringing up the idea to them. No. Stryker actually had a family that loved em, unlike Clair. Could they ever forgive themself if they were the reason sweet little Stryker died?

Tears slipped down their cheeks. They were crying.

Clair hissed as they tried to wipe away the tears. "No. I'm fine."  
Were they really? If they were fine, they wouldn't be...  
"I. Am. Fine."

The silence and the darkness gave Clair time to think. About how much they missed their parents. About how much they'd miss their district, despite there being nothing left for them. And how they really didn't want to be here. What was the point of these Games? Just to send a bunch of kids to the slaughter? Kids who didn't even do anything? Clair had never been a part of the rebellion. Never once had they voice their growing disgust of the Capitol.

Now, they were forced to give up their life to pay for the mistakes of someone else. Just another shitty day in Clair Ivory's little world.

Clair flipped onto their side, nearly kicking the blankets off the bed. They just wanted today to be over with. And every other day after that...well, maybe not. They didn't want to go into the arena. And as much as they were beat down and kicked around, they didn't really want to die.

 _They didn't really want to die._

But if surviving daily life in 12 was hard, then these Games were going to be a near impossible task. Did Clair have it in them? Could they really kill? Could they prioritize their life over someone else's? These were all stupid questions. Of course they had to. Clair remember snippets of past Games they watched in the district square. None of those Victors were innocent. All of them had blood on their hands.

No, it wasn't going to be easy. Nobody said it was easy. They could train themself to do it, right? Provided they didn't somehow get themself killed first. Oh, and they figured they could leave Stryker alone. Let em meet eir own demise somehow.

Clair flipped back over again, lying on their back. They felt really exhausted all of a sudden. And they'd need their sleep for tomorrow.

Hopefully, luck was on their side for once and their little plan would not go horribly wrong.

* * *

 **It's the parade! What did you think of the outfits the tributes were wearing? Which ones were your favourites?**

 **Next chapter will be a little interlude where we'll meet some familiar faces. And then training will be in full swing after that. I hope you're ready!**

 **-Vr**


	19. Interlude: Whispers In The Dark

**I am still missing check-ins for the following tributes:**

 **Toren Kollath**  
 **Bellona Peirce**  
 **Gear Griswald**  
 **Astrid Balan**  
 **Haruhi Maki**  
 **Adella Kerrick**  
 **Corbyn Reid**  
 **Amelia Williams**  
 **Zilla Odbody**  
 **Darra Delaney**  
 **Twill Chintz**  
 **Lily Baudilair**  
 **Red Bellmont**  
 **Clair Ivory**

 **Please see the author's note at the end of Chapter 15 for the check-in question. You can submit it to me either through PM or on Discord.**

* * *

 _Mark Giblet, 17_  
 _Victor of the 7th Hunger Games and District 3 Mentor_

* * *

Once he was sure he was alone in his room with the door locked, he slowly picked up the phone and dialed a number he had memorized way too well. Not that he would be embarrassed by the receiving end (he hoped), but there was a good chance they would discussing some more...er...unfavourable topics. Plus, he liked his privacy. Astrid and Gear were some very nosy tributes.

He held the phone up to his good ear and waited. Finally, there was a voice on the other end. "Hello?"  
"Hey. It's me."  
"Did I wake you up?"

"Nah, it's all good! I'm not tired! But I missed you!"  
Mark giggled to himself. "It's only been a day."

"Yeah, well, that's way too long. What am I supposed to do without my Markimoo by my side?"  
"I'm gonna ask the Peacekeepers to make it a punishable offense to refer to District 3's only Victor as Markimoo."

He hoped his tone didn't come off as too harsh, but Daniel just laughed. "You know you like it and you like me. You wouldn't dare."  
"Hey, I've extended my v-card privileges before..." Mark trailed off when he realized how gross that sounded. "Victor card! Victor card! I meant victor!"

"Ew babe, that's disgusting!"  
"Come on, you knew what I meant!"  
"Yeah, I did. Just messing with ya!"

"Can we please get serious now?" Mark sighed. "I actually have to talk about something important."  
"Alright, alright. Fine. What gives?"

"Well...Foxy...he approached me earlier today..."  
"Mark, I thought we agreed that...""  
"He made an interesting case. At least more interesting than the last time we did this."

When Daniel didn't offer up a snarky reply, which was very out of character for him, Mark continued. "It's something I've considered and thought about. Really thought about. I have no plans to act out on it yet. Not for a while, at least. I just hope he knows what he's doing. And I can't risk you getting dragged into this whole mess."  
"But I don't want you to get in trouble!"

"I know, I know. And he dabbles in some interesting stuff...to say the least. But I do know for a fact...a lot of his credentials actually matched up with the names he was mentioning. Well...it's very hard for me to explain, because I can't...but..."

Mark knew he was being vague and evasive. But this kind of talk could get him killed. Ever since Foxy brought it up to him during the parade for the tenth or so time, he knew he needed to talk it out with someone he trusted. But to get Daniel involved or to take the fall...Mark couldn't do that. He couldn't hurt his loved ones because of his own stupid actions. Unfortunately, there were just only so many people he could come clean with...

"You'll just have to trust me."  
"Sure, babe." Whenever Daniel was actually serious for once, that indicated he felt very strongly about the topic at hand. Mark heard him faintly scratch his nails against the back of the telephone, a growing habit of his. But he actually didn't mind; if anything, he liked the sound. It told him Daniel was there.  
"I trust you. One hundred percent."

That was good to know. Mark was about to hang up, when he heard Daniel sigh loudly. "Aren't you forgetting to say something?"  
"Am I? I don't know!"  
"Come onnnnnn!" Daniel whined.

"Hmmm...let me guess...four letters, one syllable, starts with an L-"  
"I'm not letting you hang up until you say it!"  
"I could do this all day."  
"Maaaaaaaaaark!"

"Alright, alright. Love you. L-O-V-E. You."  
"There was that so hard?"

Mark rolled his eyes. "Don't push your luck, Orion. I even spelled it out!"  
"I love you too, kid. Goodnight!"

 _Click._

Mark hung up the phone, then flopped backwards onto his bed. He still had a lot to think about.

* * *

 _Foxy Champagne, 24_  
 _Victor of the 2nd Hunger Games and District 1 Mentor_

* * *

Despite the bustling of Capitolite life in the background, he could still hear the faint and gentle humming of the forcefield trapping the entire roof in a little dome. Foxy was used to it, though. Sure enough, he was alone with only one other person.

"Good evening, sir."  
"Come on. Do we not know each other well enough to use first names?"  
"I'd rather not."

"Well, fair enough." Christof just watched as Foxy tightened his oversized hoodie around his face. "What should we start with? How is it with you?"  
"Snow doesn't suspect a thing."  
"Good. Let's keep it that way. What do you know?"

"They're staying clear of District 7, that's for sure. Too much security. Until they stop showing that girl's face...darn, can't remember her name."  
"Everleigh McArvin, or something like that. Anyways, forget 7. How about District 8?"

"Look, just because I you-know-what-"  
"Escort?"  
"Not out loud! That doesn't mean I know every little details of everyone's lives. I'm there once a year."

"Aren't you close to Sliver?" Foxy asked.  
"He won't have any of it."  
"We could really use his support. You know, as the first ever Victor, he'd be a powerful figure in this movement. The people adore him and they'll hang on to his word. I know he's not a good public speaker, but his image alone is powerful enough to convince others to join this cause."

"He won't. He's a smart kid."  
"Too smart," Foxy sighed. Sliver knew the consequences better than any of them ever did. It would take too much convincing, so he and Christof agreed to just quit while they were ahead.

Rebellions were not easy. Rebellions took months, maybe years of planning. This one had been planned for almost two years. The one that had dragged Panem in this mess had been planned for decades, and look how it ended! But Foxy had no intention of repeating his ancestors's mistakes.

"How about the other Victors?"  
Christof sneered. "You know more than me."

"Claymore is a patriot through and through. So is Honouria, though I can't really get a chance to talk to her, because Claymore won't let me near here. We might have a shot with Arley, but I think she's more neutral ground and she doesn't want to risk it, which is unfortunate. Paisley is...a wild card. With the mental state she's in. I would approach her, but I worry she might let things slip."

"Then don't talk to her. I don't want people who pretend to be on our side are to spineless to actually do shit. Neutral ground is just an excuse not to do anything."  
"Christof, please. Lower your voice."  
"Sorry. Continue."

"Some of our more recent Victors...I think they might be on our side. Mark didn't confirm for sure, but give me a little more time and I'm certain I can sway him over. And Fjord, he's in the same boat as Paisley. Very frail, might crack and give us all away."

"That's one Victor. One of seven. Not good, Mr. Champagne!"  
"Give me time! That's all I ask for. We're asking big things from them and if I were in their shoes, I'd act the same way!"

Christof rolled his eyes; sometimes, Foxy thought, this guy was near impossible to deal with. "You had one job and in my opinion, a twig in a clown shoe could've done a better job. There's a teenage orphan in Panem who's more inspiring than you."

"Fine Tell me about your life. I bet you've made so much more progress, you're just exploding to share it with someone!"  
"Actually, I have!"

Foxy snickered. He wondered if Snow ever suspected that the escort assigned to keeping watch over the more rebellious districts and spying on their problematic movements was actually a double agent who worked with the movements he supposedly hated. Anything to get a leg up on Snow and his ever loyal Capitolites.

"He's overexerting his force. Too many people stationed in 7 because it's a hotbed. And the other districts have become more lax. Actually, there's a lot in 8 too, Sliver said. 8, in Snow's mind, cannot be trusted. They're always stirring shit, causing no good."  
"I believe the phrase is stirring up shit."

"Yeah yeah, whatever. But now what? I have word that most of our party is stationed back in 9, since going to 10 didn't work out as planned. What should we do?"  
Foxy rubbed his shin. "It would be really tempting to help stir up even more shit...if we could get an entire district on our side..."

"Don't do 8. I can't have Sliver mad at me. He really wants to get these tribbies home."  
"Please don't refer to your tributes as tribbies."

Foxy sighed. "Alright, we'll figure it out tomorrow. Let's have them stay put for now. I'll keep talking to Mark. You do your job and don't cause anymore shit."  
Christof just winked. "You do yours first. I wanna see some progress on your end."

Right, progress. As Foxy headed towards the elevator, he felt Christof's eyes drilling into his back. Planning a rebellion was so much harder than he thought it would be, especially when all the influential people were too afraid of the consequences.

But that's why planning was so important, huh?

* * *

 **A quick little interlude to stir up shit and continue with the subplot! Also, a nice little catch-up on our previous Victors!**

 **I have a few weeks off, so I hope to be getting back on my routine and into the groove of once again updating TMH twice a month. We'll be getting into training next! Also, check-ins! They can be sent to me either through PM or on Discord. The question is back in Chapter 15.**

 **See you all next chapter!**

 **-Vr**


	20. Training Day I: Qualifications

**Training Day 1:**

* * *

 _Corbyn Reid, 16_  
 _District 5 Male_

* * *

Training was going to be very interesting, according to Corbyn. After all, there were so many new things to try out. Nothing was very clear-cut, unfortunately; he couldn't just problem solve himself out of this. The other tributes were way too unpredictable.

So was Amelia. She and Corbyn instantly went off their separate ways. The silent agreement between them as that no way in hell would they ever consider allying. Corbyn needed someone...err...street-smart was the best way to describe it. To take care of the social and physical game for him and attract the sponsors his mentor went on about. Amelia was a like a light switch. Light switches were not very good social butterflies.

He headed towards throwing knives first, which seemed easy enough to attract a couple of tributes. At the station, Corbyn studied the knives. There were so many, some of the different sizes, length, thickness, sharpness.

After a quick briefing from the trainer, Corbyn picked up the smallest knife available. He threw it at one of the targets as hard as he could. It missed completely, scattering to the floor behind the target. Okay, that was not going to work.

He tried a second time, and missed again. These small knives weren't going to work for him. He selected a slightly bigger one, almost a medium size. That was a lot easier to control and throw. Corbyn actually landed a hit on the target. Granted, it was on the very edge, but overall, an improvement.

One of the other boys glanced over at him, lowering his arm. "Oh, hey! Corbyn, right?"  
"That's me."  
"Hey Corbyn. I'm Charles."

Corbyn didn't respond. This was rather puzzling. Did tributes just waltz up to each other like that all the time? Weren't they supposed to be enemies? There had to be some sort of catch. Charles must've wanted something from him. Or else, they wouldn't be talking like old friends.

"You seem to be getting the hang of these knives really fast."  
"Thank you."  
"Do you want to be allies?"

Allies. The word sat loosely on his tongue. Corbyn had hoped to find the right person to ally with. And he hoped it would be easy. He was pretty shit at striking up conversations with strangers. And here he was, an offer extended towards him. Nothing wrong with saying yes, right?

But did he really want an ally in Charles?

"Well, what kind of skills do you have?"  
"I know everything there is to know about toxicology." Charles grinned. "And I know how to use it as a weapon."  
"Is that all?"  
"Well...I'm a really good student."

"Any weaknesses?" Corbyn asked bluntly.  
Charles raised an eyebrow; was he offended? "What kind of a question is that?"  
"No offense, but I don't want to ally with someone who's more of a liability than an asset."  
"That's fair. And I suppose I'm not very good swimmer."

One last question. "Do you consider yourself more book-smart, or street-smart?"  
"Oh. Book-smart for sure."  
"Well, thank you for your time."

Charles's eyes dropped slightly. "Oh...well...alright then. I guess I'm not exactly what you're looking for."  
"I'm afraid not."  
Charles opened his mouth to say something, then shook his head and stomped off, clenching his fists. Corbyn hoped he didn't offend the other boy too much.

He decided to try out axes next. Somehow, they were a lot easier to control than knives. Corbyn clutched the sturdy wooden handle, which felt warm and smooth in his hands. Then he threw it. Hard. The entire axe blade slammed into the top of the target, nearly knocking it over.

The girl from 7 also seemed to be pretty proficient in axes as well. She practically jumped on top of the dummies, tearing their heads off with her axe. Very strong, but the whole scene was rather off-putting to Corbyn. No way of knowing whether or not she'd do the same thing to him.

He wandered over to the archery station next. Shooting arrows was fairly easy, but Corbyn thought it also took way too much work. Throwing axes were way better. the girl next to him seemed to be picking up on the weapon very well, going through her entire quiver until it was empty. She lowered her bow and jumped a little, as if she hadn't noticed Corbyn at all.

"Um...hello?"  
"Hello. I'm Corbyn, from District 5. You must be..."  
"Zilla."  
"From which district."

Zilla shrugged. "District 6. But I don't think that's important."  
"Alright then. You seem to be very talented with archery."

"I'm not," Zilla said in a flat tone. "I just started practicing today."  
Well, this was not entirely the ally Corbyn was looking for. He put his bow down and turned to leave, but Zilla spoke up again. "My mentor thinks I should ask people to ally with me."  
"Have you asked anyone yet?"  
"I'm asking you."

Corbyn frowned. "Sorry, but you're just not the kind of ally I am looking for. No offense."  
"Erm...I wasn't offended. But I am serious. I would like to ally with you."  
"Why?"

Zilla squinted, probably the most emotion Corbyn had seen from her so far. "I don't think a lot of people are going to want anything to do with me," she said bluntly. "And I guess...since you did ask that or apparently showed some interest in me...I hope you don't think I'm weird."  
"No, of course not. But, if we're going to be allies, I hope you can convince as many people as possible to sponsor us."

Zilla nodded. "I'll try my best. What will you do?"  
"Same thing as you. Training with weapons."

Corbyn glanced over at the giant dummy massacre at the axe station, feeling a small pit in his stomach. He would never be as powerful as something of the other tributes, and that worried him a little. At least he still had two more days to train, and a single ally. That was better than what he started the day with.

True, he couldn't think of any easy solution to win the Games, given that there was just too many variables, people, and what-ifs to work with. And like his mentor had told him, eventually he'd have to fight if he wanted to survive. And he want to survive. So he could go back home and carry on with life as if nothing had happened.

He flung another axe at an empty target. The axe landed dead in the centre, splitting the target in half.

* * *

 _Stryker Ember, 15_  
 _District 12 "Male"_

* * *

Too bad Clair wanted nothing to do with em. Stryker was trying to be as respectful as ey could though, giving Clair their space. They weren't eir preferred type of ally anyways. So it worked out for everyone in the end.

Ey sat alone at lunch, watching the rest of the tributes mill around. Districts 1 and 2 talked in hushed voices. District 4 was sitting together as well as District 8. The girl from 8 seemed like a promising ally, though she wasn't in the age group ey were looking for; Stryker found it a bit hard to believe ey were the same age as her.

That's when her district partner caught Stryker staring and gave em a little glare. Whoops. Stryker sharply turned eir head away. Ey heard the girl ask her district partner something as ey went back to their food. Ey had never tasted anything like it before. Too bad ey couldn't share it with eir sisters.

There were a lot of younger tributes. Stryker worried for them; how many of those poor kids really stood a chance? There were just so many older and stronger tributes who could easily pick them off. Ey had seen it happen in past Games. It always hurt to watch.

Maybe ey could do something to help?

There was just so much to do that Stryker couldn't just pick one station to work with; ey had to try everything. The weapons all looked so sharp and dangerous to use. Really, the only thing Stryker felt familiar with were pickaxes. Those were way too common in 12.

Ey wandered over to the ever popular knives station first. There was the little boy from 3, trying his best to heave the heavier knives. The trainer just watched, disapprovingly, then turned to go help another tribute instead.

Stryker stepped forward. "Hey, it's okay to start with the smaller knives first."  
"It's fine! I can do it!"  
"Um, okay...if you say so."

The boy tired to throw the knife, missing completely. He sighed and reached for the smaller one instead.

"Hey, I never caught your name. I'm Stryker."  
"I'm Gear." Gear gave him a funny look. Probably because he easily towered over Stryker, who was three years older than him.

"Do you have any allies, Gear?"  
"No, not yet."  
"While, would you like to ally with me?"

Gear shrugged. "Ah, what the heck. Sure."  
"Right. I'm gonna look for more allies. You can join me, if you want."  
"I think I'm gonna stay here for now."

Stryker wandered aimlessly over to the climbing station, where the young girl from 5 was busy scrambling up on the rock wall. It looked easy enough and if she could do it, ey could do it. Ey grabbed onto the rocks attached to the wall, pulling emself up. The girl was already sitting at the top, watching em.

"Hi!"  
"Hi. I'm Stryker."  
"I'm Amelia. What are you doing?"

"Practicing my climbing skills." Stryker realize just how high up the wall could go. "Also, looking for allies."  
"Why would I wanna ally with you? You're shorter than me."

"I can help you," Stryker insisted. "I already have a few allies. We can work together to keep each other safe in the arena. And I know that as one of the younger tributes, others might write you off as an easy kill. They'll have no problem slaughtering you."  
"I bet they'll do the same to you too."

"I know." Stryker puffed out eir chest. "That's why I'm going to help protect you."

Amelia giggled hysterically. "That's funny. But since I have nothing better, I guess I'll join your little alliance."

Stryker lowered emself back down the wall. When eir feet touched the ground, Gear rand up to em. "Hey, Cleve says he wants to join our alliance. I told him he could."  
"That sounds good! Um...who is Cleve?"

"He's over there," Gear pointed towards the boy from...11? Yeah, it had to be 11. Anyways, he was hanging out at the darts station with an older boy, painting something onto the darts.  
"I think this will make a sturdy alliance, "Stryker declared. "Four is a good number."  
"Four is a lot of people though."

"I don't think it is too bad."  
Amelia scoffed, having finally climbed down the wall. "Yeah, aren't you gonna protect us?"  
"I will. I promise."

Gear gave em a little smile. "Cool. That's really kind of you."

Stryker just grinned back. For a second, ey felt a little doubtful. But ey forced emself to push those feelings away.

* * *

 _Current Alliances:_

 _The Careers...kind of:_ Stravos, Elise, Toren, Bellona

 _Babysitter Stryker:_ Gear, Amelia, Cleveland, Stryker

 _D4 Loyalty:_ Haruhi, Adella

 _D8 Loyalty:_ Twill, Claodis

 _The Odd Pair:_ Corbyn, Zilla

 _Loners:_ Astrid, Charles, Veles, Darra, Lily, Red, Argen, Acacia, Clair

* * *

 **The tribute get to know each other and some alliances are starting to come together! Do you think Corbyn and Zilla can work together? Did Corbyn make a mistake by rejecting Charles? Will Stryker's plan to protect the younger tributes work out?**

 **We still have two more training chapters to go! In the next one, we'll be hearing from Astrid and Weller as they continue training with the other tributes.**

 **-Vr**


	21. Training Day II: Trustworthy

**Training Day 2:**

* * *

 _Weller Worthen, 18_  
 _District 11 Male_

* * *

Seeing all sorts of weapons lying out for people to just use was jarring for Weller. The Gamemakers were going to make them fight to the death with spears and swords, not guns. He didn't mind that part. He hoped to never touch a gun in his life ever again.

He remembered training to use weapons like these before, but that was a long time ago. It wouldn't hurt to freshen up. And if Weller recalled correctly, knives were pretty easy to pick up on, so he headed there first. There were a few tributes practicing with the knives, which didn't surprise him.

If anything, Weller actually felt relieved. Nobody here knew what his life was like before he was Reaped. When nobody had anything to say about him during the first day of training, he felt a little more relaxed. It was his fresh start, a chance to make a new first impression to potential allies, where he could be judged off his actions, not his past.

In District 11, he may have just been a solider.

Here he was just...Weller.

The knives felt a bit unfamiliar and very sharp, almost like daggers. Weller tossed one at the nearest target, landing on a ring closer to the middle. So, he still had it in him after all. This kind of training was very hard to forget.

A couple more throws to warm him up and Weller did feel a little more confident in himself. Yeah, if he needed to, he'd be able to throw a knife directly at someone. Watching the little boy from 3 next to him struggle, Weller felt a slight pang in his stomach.

Next stop was the axes station, just in case knives weren't an option for him in the arena. They were a lot heavier, throwing him off balance a little bit. Weller was able to swing the axe, but compared to the girl from 7, cutting through dummies like a pro, it was practically nothing.

"Hey, you're pretty good."  
The girl nodded, pulling some hair out of her face. "Thanks. I have practice. I'm Darra, by the way."  
"Weller, I'm from District 7."  
"I saw you with the knives. You any good with them?"

Weller gave her an awkward shrug. "I suppose so. I have had practice before."  
"Well, that makes you a little more competent than most of the kids here. And I don't have time to babysit my allies."  
"That's a bit harsh, don't you think?"

Darra chopped off a dummy's arm. "Well, I want to win. And I'll do what it takes. The Games have already caused my family to go through enough shit as it is."  
"Would you like to form an alliance, then?"  
Darra flashed him a small grin. "Hey, why not? You seem pretty capable."

Weller slowly offered his hand, which Darra grasped in a firm shake. "Well, it's nice to have you on board. Are we considering anybody else? Your district partner, perhaps?"  
"Veles? He said he doesn't want any allies. He's a lone wolf."  
"I see. Do we want anyone else?"

"I wouldn't oppose the idea," Darra said simply. "But they better carry their weight, or else they're not worth my time. There were a lot of people I was considering, but now that I think about it, they'll probably just drag us down."

At lunch, the two of them sat together, discussing things among themselves. Surprisingly, Darra already had a list of people she was planning to work with. As she went over it with Weller, they were interrupted by the boy from District 6.

"Sorry. Do you mind if I sit here?"  
Weller shook his head as the boy sat down across from him. "Oh, thanks. I'm Charles."  
"I'm Weller. And this is Darra."

"Hey. Are you looking for any allies?"  
"Depends." Darra looked up from her tray, where she had been stabbing her mashed potatoes repeatedly with a fork. "What do you bring to the table?"

"I'm really talented with poison."  
"Poison," Weller repeated in a slow voice. "Why...poison?"

"Oh, toxicology has always been a passion of mine. I've been toying with the idea of crafting poison darts to use as a weapon."  
"I'm gonna find it hard to believe that the Gamemakers are just gonna leave random poison lying around for us to dip darts into and stab each other with." Darra went back to stabbing her mashed potatoes.

"I know that. That's why I've been practicing with throwing knives!"  
"Weren't you talking with the kid from 5?" Darra asked. "I don't remember what his name is."

"Oh. Corbyn." Charles folded his arms and Weller noticed his voice was suddenly very flat. "Yeah, I tried approaching him, but he doesn't think I'm the right ally. So, whatever. It's his loss and i swear I have nothing to do with him."

"I don't mind having you join us," Weller muttered, sliding his tray across the table. "Darra? What do you think?"  
"Eh, why not. You're in."

Charles giggled. "Wow, really? Thanks guys!"

Darra dropped her tray onto the table, almost splattering the remains of her mashed potatoes everywhere. "Well, this has been a very pleasant conversation. What an alliance. Anyways, I'm gonna go and chop some shit up with some axes. See you guys later."

"What were you planning on doing?" Charles asked.  
"I was gonna go practice some more with the throwing knives."  
"Oh cool, I was planning on doing that as well. Mind if I join you?"

* * *

 _Astrid Balan, 15_  
 _District 3 Female_

* * *

Astrid never knew training could be so miserable.

Maybe she was just miserable because Mark had cut her off completely. He had given the Avoxes strict orders not to let her drink any alcoholic beverages and locked up all the pills in a cupboard in his room. God, Astrid needed a drink to deal with all of her mentor's bullshit. And she couldn't even do that!

Trainign with all these badass weapons wasn't the problem. Going cold turkey was.

But Astrid wasn't going to just brush Mark off, since he didn't talk down to her or treat her like a little kid, the way most adults did. And he actually had some pretty good advice. Maybe it was because Mark himself was still a teen, just with authority, that made him tolerable in Astrid's book. Her district partner was a little annoying, the mutable agreement being that neither of them cared to ally up with each other.

She was sitting alone at lunch, watching all the other tributes do their business. The chatty boy from 10 caught her eye, but he and his district partner were practically attached at the hip. To Astrid, it wasn't worth it, knowing a potential ally was closer to someone else over her. That just made them way more likely to stab her in the back.

No big deal. She could probably find tons of tributes who wouldn't mind working with her.

Astrid quickly polished off the rest of her food. Damn, the cooks in the Capitol were amazing. She decided to try out the climbing wall next, which looked really big. As it turned out, climbing was easier said than done.

Astrid slipped back down the wall for the fourth time. Already sitting the the top, was the girl from 9 just laughed. "Hey, you see those knobs? You're supposed to grab those!"  
"Thanks for the brilliant advice, Captain Obvious," Astrid snarled. "I never would've been able to figure it out by myself."

"No problem! You're Astrid, right? I'm Lily."  
"You're that random girl who volunteered. What's the deal with that?"  
"It was a dare. And I never back down from dares."

Astrid finally pulled herself onto the top of the wall. "Well, that's kinda stupid, don't you think? How the hell did you get up this thing anyways?"  
"I like a challenge." Lily flashed her a cheeky grin. "It's pretty easy, actually."  
"You know what, I don't need to hear it."

Lily's grin was even wider. "You're funny. I like it."  
Astrid just nodded. Maybe this girl would make a pretty decent ally, especially if she was so easy to read. "Do you have any allies yet?"  
"Not yet. My district partner's doing his own thing and everyone else seems to be avoiding me."

"You and me then?"  
"Yep!" Lily said quickly as she backed down the wall. "That sounds good."

Once she carefully climbed back down the wall, which was a lot harder then going up it, Astrid went to find something that didn't require as much physical activity. The popular edible plants station was empty for once, only occupied by the girl from 11. She had already sorted the cards into different piles.

For Astrid, it was impossible to figure out which plants were edible and which one weren't; she couldn't even recognize half of them! The trainer just watched, just to hide her smile behind her hand. Even the girl from 11 looked up, then shook her head. "Do you want some help?"  
"I'm fine. I can do it."

Acacia neatly stacked the cards and pushed them to the side. "Alright, if you insist."  
"Eh, whatever." Astrid tossed the last card onto the table. "I'll come back to this later."

Acacia's reaction caught her by surprise; the younger girl folded her arms, turning her back to Astrid. "The nerve of some people...just giving up because things didn't go their way..."

"I'm not giving up! I'd just rather spend my time on something that I'm good at!"  
"Suit yourself," Acacia snapped, reaching for Astrid's messy pile of cards.

Astrid wanted to bite back, but something inside her told her not to. Acacia would make a pretty valuable ally if she knew about plants and shit, because Astrid was clearly clueless about it. Then again, they started off on the wrong foot, so maybe Acacia would actually say no?

"Are you looking for any allies?"  
"Well, it depends."  
"What about me and Lily?"

"Who is Lily? The girl who volunteered?" Acacia sounded a little nervous. "Are you sure about that?"  
"Oh relax, she's harmless. And totally crazy. In an awesome way!"

"I don't know..." Acacia looked a little uncomfortable. "I don't want to mean I've got to pick up the slack."  
"That won't happen. I promise."

"Oh...well okay. I don't have anyone else approaching me, so I guess this works out."

"Nice!" Astrid gave Acacia a quick fist bump. "Now, do you really plan to stay here for the whole day?"  
"That doesn't sound as bad as you think."  
"That's a shame. You're gonna go climb the wall with us."

* * *

 _Current Alliances:_

 _Careers:_ Stravos, Elise, Toren, Bellona

 _Babysitter Stryker:_ Gear, Amelia, Cleveland, Stryker

 _D4 Loyalty:_ Haruhi, Adella

 _D8 Loyalty:_ Twill, Claodis

 _D10 Loyalty:_ Red, Argen

 _Odd Pair Out:_ Corbyn, Zilla

 _Brains, Brawns, and Badassery:_ Charles, Darra, Weller

 _I don't have a clever name for them oop:_ Astrid, Lily, Acacia

 _Loners:_ Veles, Clair

* * *

 **We've got some more alliances coming together! Will the two trios we've seen in this chapter work out? What's the deal between Charles and Corbyn? Did Acacia make the right call in allying with Lily and Astrid? Which alliance is your favourite right now?  
**

 **We got one more training chapter left, this one featuring the POVs of Elise and Cleveland. It'll be coming out later this month!**

 **Stay safe everyone!**

 **-Vr**


	22. Training Day III: Breaking Points

**Training Day 3:**

* * *

 _Elise Starbright, 16  
District 1 Female  
_

* * *

At lunch, Elise, Stravos, Toren, and Bellona sat together, again. Elise twirled her fork in her noodles. "So, you've trained before with weapons? That's actually pretty neat."  
Bellona shrugged. "Eh. I had nothing better to do with my time. And training is free, so..."

Toren winced as he slurped up some steaming noodles, which flew upward and smacked his face. "Hey, why not? If it worked for Honouria, it could work for us, right?"  
"I still can't believe you volunteered, Toren."  
"Why? You were there when it happened! You saw me do it!"

Stravos just cackled, trying to hide his annoying smirk behind a slice of bread. "What a dumb move."  
Toren's cheeks turned red, just for a moment. "Hey! Well, it's too late to do anything about now! We're all in this together."

"Right, right." Stravos slowly pulled off the crust of the bread. "I'm gonna get some more gravy before the kid from 11 steals it all." He pushed his tray aside, then walked off.  
Bellona rolled her eyes. "Elise, what's his problem? He's just been so condescending from day one!"

"I have no idea." Elise slammed her fork against her tray. "God, all I need is to put a slice of bread on either side of his face and I could make myself a bastard sandwich!"

That got a few laughs out of her allies. Elise liked them. Sure, she wasn't going to trust them one hundred percent, but Toren and Bellona were much easier to put up with than that asshat she called her district partner. They were capable, competent, and from what she had seen so far, both were pretty strong.

And perhaps deadly?

"So, what's the plan now?"  
Toren finished off the last of his noodles. "I'm going back to training."  
"Me too." Bellona stood up. "I've gotta make up for the deadweight...err...no offense..."

"None taken," Elise said politely. Deep down, she felt a pit in her stomach. Was that what her allies thought of her? Deadweight?  
"Bellona, that's kinda harsh." Toren made a face. "Just because they didn't train like us doesn't make them deadweight."

"Sorry if it came out like that." Bellona awkwardly glanced down at her feet. "I just meant that I want our alliance to be strong. It seems like a lot of other tributes are banding together."  
That gave Elise an idea. "Do you think we have too many people? A big alliance gets chaotic very easily."

"Four people isn't a lot, though." Toren mused. "Plus, Claymore was really insistent on it. I don't really wanna go against him, since he knows what he's doing."  
"I can't blame you then. But it's something to consider, perhaps?"

Bellona began to pace back and forth in a small circle. Elise quickly glanced over her shoulder at Stravos, who was still taking his sweet time loading up his lunch tray. Good. He could take as long as he wanted. She didn't mind the slightest.

"You said you're an actress, right?" Toren asked her.  
"Well, not a professional one. Mainly in school plays. But I think I can convince the sponsors to go after us."  
"I still don't get how that whole sponsor thing works." Bellona stopped pacing. "But hey, if you're gonna take care of it, that's fine by me. Do the sponsors like Stravos as well?"

"Um...I'm not sure. Depends on how they feel about illegal gambling rings..." Elise trailed off, pressing a hand to her mouth as if she had accidentally revealed a nasty secret. Sure enough, both of the District 2 partners gave her surprised looks. Toren's eyebrows went up. "Wait...is that even legal?"  
"I have no idea! Don't ask me!"  
Bellona looked disgusted. "Wow. How the hell do you trust someone who cheats in card games for a living?"

"That's what I've been thinking since I first met him," Elise said, in as innocent a tone as possible. "And I couldn't agree with you more."  
"Hey guys!" Stravos was back. "I hope nobody minds that I took the last of the roast beef. And I'm not sharing!"

Bellona took a step back from Stravos, grabbing Toren's arm and pulling him from his seat. The two of them then began to whisper with each other. The whole scene was getting a few looks from some other tributes, which made Elise a little nervous. Finally, Toren and Bellona pulled apart, facing Stravos. Elise's heart began to pound. Was her acting finally going to pay off?

Toren awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. "Hey Stravos...uh...no offense, dude..."  
"That usually means you're gonna say something that offends me. What gives?"  
Toren looked over at Bellona, who quickly took charge. "We think that it's best for us if we drop you from the alliance."

Slowly but surely, the grin of Stravos's face was replaced with a frown, then a scowl. "Hold on...you're kicking me out?"  
"That's one way to put it," Bellona muttered.

"Why!? Am I not good enough for you?"  
Toren looked like he wanted to hide behind Bellona. "Nobody said that..."  
"This was Elise's idea, wasn't it?"

Elise kept a straight face as Stravos glared at her. Now was not the time to let him see just how smug she was feeling right now.  
"It was a group decision," Bellona declared. "And majority rules. So see you around."

Stravos's face went blank; huh, he was taking this remarkably well. He gripped his tray tightly, then walked off, shooting Elise one last cold stare. She still kept a neutral expression, but the second his back was turned, she couldn't stop the smirk growing onto her face.

 _Beat ya to the punch, bastard sandwich, See you in the arena._

* * *

 _Cleveland "Cleve" Garfield, 13_  
 _District 9 Male_

* * *

Cleve just watched as the District 1 boy stormed off. Now what was that all about?

"Ignore them," Stryker told him. "If they want to argue, then it's none of our business."  
"Yeah, but why?"  
"I don't know! And to be fair, I don't really want to know."

That was fair. Cleve turned to the last of his food, which tasted a little drier without any more gravy. Shucks.

Training had actually been pretty exciting, and he liked it. For once, there was nobody telling Cleve that he needed to be at one station at a certain time, or someone else needed his help, or that he was too childish and needed to be mature for his age.

And his allies were all pretty cool. It was funny how he and Gear were the same age but lead such different lifestyles. Amelia was nice, but she could be a bit snappy at times. Stryker felt like the big sibling Cleve never had; it was really nice of em to try and protect the younger tributes.

After lunch, Cleve went back to throwing knives with Gear. It had been tempting to go try out the edible plants station, but he already knew a lot about plants; why waste his time? He had never thrown a knife before and it was kind of exciting. One minute, he was holding a weapon. The next...

Gear sighed. "Ugh. This is starting to get really annoying."  
"What is?"  
"I was so good at this yesterday. It's like I forgot everything I knew about knife-throwing overnight!"

Cleve giggled. "Sorry. You just remind me of one of my younger brothers."  
"How many brothers do you have again?"  
"Only 5. But I also have 4 sisters."

Gear's eyes widened. "Wow! I don't have any brothers or sisters."  
"And how is it?"  
"Eh. Not too bad but you kinda get lonely sometimes."

Cleve could hardly imagine sharing a house with only his parents. "Well, that sucks. Don't you have any friends?"  
"Yeah. A few." Gear put the knife back on the rack. "Alright, I'm done here."

"Why?" Cleve's next knife landed on the very edge of the target. "This is actually pretty fun! And useful."  
"I'd rather focus on some survival stuff instead. Like the plants. Wanna come with me?"

"Nah." Cleve eyed a larger, sleeker knife instead. "I already know all there is to know about plants."  
"Alright then. I'll see you later."

Cleve gave his ally a small wave goodbye. After a few more minutes, the novelty of throwing knives was starting to wear off. There were other weapons to practice with as well. Amelia was busy making a splint, and Stryker was running along the agility course. Cleve had never seen em stay at any station for longer than half an hour.

The darts station was empty, so Cleve wandered over there next. As the trainer explained it, he could try throwing the darts, or shooting them from a tube. There edible plants station was also nearby, in case he wanted to try making a poison to coat the darts in.

As it turned out, darts were pretty tricky.

They were so small, it was amazing Cleve hadn't accidentally pricked his finger yet. And he couldn't throw them like a knife. Most of his darts slid across the floor, much to the trainer's amusement. briefly, the boy from 6 walked over carrying a bowl of a poisonous plant mix that he had made, watched Cleve for a few seconds, then left.

Eventually, Stryker wandered over as well. "How's it going?"  
"Watch for yourself." Cleve threw another dart. It missed.  
"Oh, don't worry. I'm sure you'll get the hang of things eventually."

Cleve just nodded. Stryker was right. And he could take all day to practice if he really wanted. Who was going to tell him otherwise?

He stayed for as long as he could, practicing with darts and switching back to knives, before a Peacekeeper tapped him on the shoulder and reminded him that training was now over. Cleve hopped in the elevator, riding it all the way up to his floor. Paisley, his mentor wasn't back yet.

That's when he noticed Lily cross the room holding a mug and an apple, wearing nothing but a towel. She chuckled to herself as Cleve tactfully averted his eyes. But his district partner had a good idea. A shower sounded pretty awesome right now, to relieve him off all his sweat.

Who knew training would cause him to work so hard?

* * *

 _Current Alliances:_

 _Careers:_ Elise, Toren, Bellona

 _Babysitter Stryker:_ Gear, Amelia, Cleveland, Stryker

 _D4 Loyalty:_ Haruhi, Adella

 _D8 Loyalty:_ Twill, Claodis

 _D10 Loyalty:_ Red, Argen

 _Odd Pair Out:_ Corbyn, Zilla

 _Three Bs (Round Two):_ Charles, Darra, Weller

 _Acacia and The Daredevil Duo:_ Astrid, Lily, Acacia

 _Out For Vengeance:_ Veles

 _Doesn't need allies, thank you very much:_ Clair

 _Well...shit:_ Stravos

* * *

 **Finally, training is over! Was it a smart idea for the Careers to kick Stravos out? Will this backfire against Elise? Also, any last opinions on our many, many alliances?**

 **Time for another check-in! As usual, you can send your check-in to me either via PM or DM on Discord. This chapter's question is:**

 **What is your tribute's favourite and least favourite food? You only have to put one for each.**

 **Next up will be a quick glimpse at the scores with our Gamemakers, which are handled a little differently here (the numbers being assigned based off the skills the tributes have showcased over three days of training). We're getting through this pre-Games stuff pretty quickly!**

 **See you all next chapter!**

 **-Vr**


	23. Show Me Your Stuff

**I am still missing check-ins for the following tributes:**

 **Elise Starbright**  
 **Toren Kollath (also missing check-in 1)**  
 **Bellona Pierce (also missing check-in 1)**  
 **Gear Griswald (also missing check-in 1)**  
 **Astrid Balan (also missing check-in 1)**  
 **Haruhi Maki (also missing check-in 1)**  
 **Adella Kerrick (also missing check-in 1)**  
 **Corbyn Reid (also missing check-in 1)**  
 **Amelia Williams (also missing check-in 1)**  
 **Charles Thomson**  
 **Zilla Odbody (also missing check-in 1)**  
 **Darra Delaney (also missing check-in 1)**  
 **Twill Chintz (also missing check-in 1)**  
 **Cleveland Garfield**  
 **Lily Baudilair (also missing check-in 1)**  
 **Red Bellmont (also missing check-in 1)**  
 **Weller Worthen**  
 **Clair Ivory (also missing check-in 1)**

 **Please send the author's note at the end of Chapter 22 for the second check-in question and Chapter 15 for the first check-in question. You can send the answers to me either via PM or by DM on** **Discord.**

* * *

 _Virgo Blackman, 20_  
 _Daughter of The Head Gamemaker and University Student_

* * *

Her father rarely brought his work home with him.

Virgo just watched from the darkness of the hallway, carefully pressed up against the wall so he wouldn't notice her. Maybe this was a little bit childish, but who could blame her for being so curious? How many other people got to see what was going on behind the scenes? Just one peek at his notes, that was all she wanted. And she promised to be tight-lipped about the whole thing as well.

Taurus had changed from his suit into a bathrobe and slippers. He yawned; clearly, he was very tired. That was weird. Usually, he was very excited for the Games and to show off his creations. Stuff like this was all he talked about nonstop. Virgo had a feeling that shit was real tense lately, but of course nobody ever told her anything.

When Taurus finally headed to the kitchen to make what Virgo assumed had to be his twelfth cup of coffee, she crept into his study and sat down at his desk. On his laptop was a series of forms, all that had been filled in with information about the tributes. It didn't take Virgo long to realize what this was all for.

Scanning over the forms, she giggled to herself at her father's characteristic snark. Virgo was a little disappointed he had yet to fill in the training scores, since they were to be announced live tomorrow. Maybe he still needed to assign them? Or perhaps he was putting them off on purpose? At least she had an idea on what everyone was up to when they were training for a few days. The satisfaction of getting that secret sneak peek was good enough for her.

 _Alright Dad,_ Virgo thought to herself. _You win this round, because this boring Games gibberish is actually pretty interesting._

* * *

NAME: Stravos Brodie

AGE: 16

DISTRICT: 1

SKILLS ASSESSED: Stravos has spent time at a variety of stations, including knife throwing, swordfighting, knots, edible plants, and fire starting.

OVERALL ASSESSMENT: Stravos appears to have no past experience using weaponry. He is currently without an alliance, despite the fact that Districts 1 and 2 have made a point of allying in the past few years. He also does not get along well with his district partner.

SCORE: **TBD**

INTERVIEWER NOTES: Ask him about why he was removed from his alliance; please steer clear of is home life.

ADDITIONAL NOTES: An investigation is currently ongoing due to his family's history with illegal gambling rings. This information is purely confidential and not to be shared with the public.

* * *

NAME: Elise Starbright

AGE: 16

DISTRICT: 1

SKILLS ASSESSED: Elise frequently ran the obstacle course and spent time studying edible plants. The only weapons she was seen training with were throwing knives.

OVERALL ASSESSMENT: Elise appears to have a bit of a rivalry with her district partner, leading to Stravos's removal from her alliance. This should be fun to watch, so keep that in mind. It's possible the exile of her district partner may backfire as well later on. in comparison to the rest of her allies, Elise is the physically weakest.

SCORE: **TBD**

INTERVIEWER NOTES: Talk about the alliance; you could also ask about her home life as well.

ADDITIONAL NOTES: It's always good to have a loyalist.

* * *

NAME: Toren Kollath

AGE: 17

DISTRICT: 2

SKILLS ASSESSED: Toren spent a lot of time training with the hand-to-hand combat instructor, and practiced with a wide variety of weapons, such as knives and swords.

OVERALL ASSESSMENT: Toren very clearly has past knowledge of using specific weapons, especially since he volunteered as well. He could easily be the obvious Victor, if it weren't for his family's rebel background that have prompted us to keep an eye on him.

SCORE: **TBD**

INTERVIEWER NOTES: Ask him about the reason why he volunteered.

ADDITIONAL NOTES: What the hell is Regans up to...

* * *

NAME: Bellona Pierce

AGE: 16

DISTRICT: 2

SKILLS ASSESSED: Bellona spent majority of her time practising with throwing knifes and swordfighting. It is worth mentioning she is much more experienced with throwing knives than she is with swords.

OVERALL ASSESSMENT: Similarly to her district partner, Bellona has clear knowledge of specific weapons, hinting that she may have been trained in them. She does not have any suspicious connections that we know of, as well as no living family members.

SCORE: **TBD**

INTERVIEWER NOTES: Ask whatever you want. Do prepare for some possible backtalk.

ADDITIONAL NOTES: Hmmmm...

* * *

NAME: Gear Griswald

AGE: 12

DISTRICT: 3

SKILLS ASSESSED: Gear used most of the smaller weapons available, such as throwing knives and daggers. He also spent time studying edible and poisonous plants and tried lifting some of the weights, though ht was only able to lift the lighter ones.

OVERALL ASSESSMENT: Despite his age, we think he might have a good chance at making it far. Granted, his skills aren't going to wow anyone or make him stand out from the crowd. he also has a very tight alliance that doesn't seem to have any fractures in it, although oldest member of said alliance is 15.

SCORE: **TBD**

INTERVIEWER NOTES: Avoid talking about his family at all costs.

ADDITIONAL NOTES: A current investigation as to the whereabouts of his father is ongoing; again, confidential. Bodies can't disappear into thin air like that.

* * *

NAME: Astrid Balan

AGE: 15

DISTRICT: 3

SKILLS ASSESSED: Astrid practised with knives, edible plants and fire starting, though she was often seen dropping the station and moving on if she wasn't satisfied with her results. She also spent a lot of time running the agility course.

OVERALL ASSESSMENT: Astrid doesn't appear to be taking training very seriously, which could have some negative repercussions. If her allies are willing to cover for her, then she'll get lucky, but if not, it won't end well for her. It's possible that she may have a drinking or drug problem, since it's reported that her mentor has locked up all alcohol and substances on the District 3 floor.

SCORE: **TBD**

INTERVIEWER NOTES: I highly suggest you steer clear of asking about her home life, if possible.

ADDITIONAL NOTES: You're fifteen years old. How the hell-

* * *

NAME: Haruhi Maki

AGE: 18

DISTRICT: 4

SKILLS ASSESSED: In the mornings, Haruhi participated in a variety of survival stations. In the afternoons, he trained with a couple of different weapons, with majority of his focus on spears and tridents.

OVERALL ASSESSMENT: Haruhi has a very interesting strategy present that makes him a jack-of-all-trades, assuming he's absorbed enough knowledge of each skill to be able to utilize them in the arena. He's also very close to his district partner, with the two of them being allies.

SCORE: **TBD**

INTERVIEWER NOTES: A very, very safe bet. You can talk with him about anything.

ADDITIONAL NOTES: You are probably the most drama-free tribute here. Good.

* * *

NAME: Adella Kerrick

AGE: 16

DISTRICT: 4

SKILLS ASSESSED: Adella has spent a majority of her time learning how to construct and activate easy traps. She's also been seen practicing with spears and identifying edible plants, although she doesn't appear to be too interested in the latter.

OVERALL ASSESSMENT: It's always good to have someone who's thinking outside the box and replacing traditional weapons with something different. And if Adella can pull her traps off, she'll easily catch other tributes by surprise. It's also clear and she and her district partner get along very well.

SCORE: **TBD**

INTERVIEWER NOTES: Should be a safe bet, though maybe avoid talking about her family if she can.

ADDITIONAL NOTES: Considering an investigation on the whereabouts of her mother, but since we have no proof there is any rebel or suspicious activity involved, the President is not considering it a high priority.

* * *

NAME: Corbyn Reid

AGE: 16

DISTRICT: 5

SKILLS ASSESSED: Corbyn was seen at least once at a majority of the stations, although he spent most of his time practising with axes.

OVERALL ASSESSMENT: Corbyn has been seen turning down a few tributes that approached him, so he clearly has a specific ally type in mind. Depending on how harshly the other tributes took him, he could make himself some enemies in the arena. hopefully his axe training will come in handy.

SCORE: **TBD**

INTERVIEWER NOTES: Safe bet to talk with about anything.

ADDITIONAL NOTES: What a wet blanket...

* * *

NAME: Amelia Williams

AGE: 13

DISTRICT: 5

SKILLS ASSESSED: Amelia spent most of her time focusing on first aid, throwing knives, and the climbing wall.

OVERALL ASSESSMENT: Amelia is part of a large but very formidable alliance. Considering her age and the age of her allies, they're not be counted out just yet, since they do have a mismatch of skills that they can hopefully utilize.

SCORE: **TBD**

INTERVIEWER NOTES: Just be respectful. Don't want to offend her or mock her.

ADDITIONAL NOTES: Is supposedly bipolar. Apparently, Sterling has some doubts. We'll be getting her in touch with some specialists eventually.

* * *

NAME: Charles Thomson

AGE: 16

DISTRICT: 6

SKILLS ASSESSED: Charles has used multiple survival stations, including knot tying, fire starting, and climbing. He spent a lot of time practising with knives and darts, as well as crushing poisonous berries and coating his darts with them.

OVERALL ASSESSMENT: Charles's knowledge and use of poison will give him a massive advantage come the arena, if he can gets his hands on the right equipment and utilize it well. He appears to have a rocky relationship with Corbyn for whatever reason, likely due to the fact the latter has rejected a lot of alliance proposals with other tributes. We'll see what comes of that.

SCORE: **TBD**

INTERVIEWER NOTES: Ask him why he's so interested in poisons.

ADDITIONAL NOTES: If you play your cards right, you just might surprise everyone...

* * *

NAME: Zilla Odbody

AGE: 16

DISTRICT: 6

SKILLS ASSESSED: Zilla was seen training with archery, edible plants, first aid, and occasionally the climbing wall, though she didn't seem to like it very much.

OVERALL ASSESSMENT: Zilla is the only person Corbyn seems interested in allying with, and her skills and weapon of choice seem to complement his quite nicely. That being said, he seems to be the only tribute she interacts with. You don't need to be social in the arena, but you don't want to make enemies either.

SCORE: **TBD**

INTERVIEWER NOTES: Talk with her about her alliance.

ADDITIONAL NOTES: You shoot, he hacks?

* * *

NAME: Veles Dragomir

AGE: 17

DISTRICT: 7

SKILLS ASSESSED: Veles was seen at every single station available, practising for only a few minutes at each.

OVERALL ASSESSMENT: If Veles has absorbed enough information from each station, then it will certainly help him. If not, it's going to be a hindrance instead. He is one of a few tributes who keep to themselves and have no allies whatsoever.

SCORE: **TBD**

INTERVIEWER NOTES: Highly suggested you steer clear of talking about his home life.

ADDITIONAL NOTES: Something about a dead sister...? I don't know, a lot of tributes that come in here seem to have dead family members these days...

* * *

NAME: Darra Delaney

AGE: 17

DISTRICT: 7

SKILLS ASSESSED: Darra spent a lot of time working with axes, fire starting, edible plants, and shelter building.

OVERALL ASSESSMENT: Her skills are a good and practical mix, as well as her alliance. Darra and her allies could certainly do some damage, assuming they aren't targeted right off the bat.

SCORE: **TBD**

INTERVIEWER NOTES: We all know about her younger brother. She'll probably be expecting you to talk about it.

ADDITIONAL NOTES: Splitting someone's head open won't bring him back, hun.

* * *

NAME: Twill Chintz

AGE: 16

DISTRICT: 8

SKILLS ASSESSED: Twill was seen spending the majority of his time practising hand-to-hand combat and throwing spears.

OVERALL ASSESSMENT: Survival stations are always very handy, especially for the kids from industrial districts like 8, so here's to hoping that Twill doesn't condemn himself by staying strictly to weapons only. He does appear to be allied with his district partner, so perhaps he's counting on her to balance him out.

SCORE: **TBD**

INTERVIEWER NOTES: He has a very interesting profession back in District 8.

ADDITIONAL NOTES: If you can work the bruised and bloody look, I'd say you'd have a lot of sponsors coming your way indeed. If I cared about what teenage boys looked like. Which I don't. I'm a forty-something married man.

* * *

NAME: Claodis Omicron

AGE: 15

DISTRICT: 8

SKILLS ASSESSED: Claodis participated in a variety of stations, including edible plants, throwing knives, the obstacle course and climbing wall, as well as spears and knot tying.

OVERALL ASSESSMENT: Claodis's skills to seem to complement her district partner's, and she appears to be very close to him, often training alongside him or sitting together at lunch. That being said, she's still quite friendly with other tributes.

SCORE: **TBD**

INTERVIEWER NOTES: Safe bet; let her be chatty if you want but reign her in if you have to.

ADDITIONAL NOTES: If you can't beat them, make them your friend so they'll have second thoughts about killing you.

* * *

NAME: Cleveland Garfield

AGE: 13

DISTRICT: 9

SKILLS ASSESSED: Majority of Cleveland's time was spent training with darts and knives.

OVERALL ASSESSMENT: Cleveland swears he already knows a lot about plants, so we'll see about that. Just like the rest of his alliance, there's the whole age factor involved, but with how much time Cleveland has spent training with weapons, it might come in handy.

SCORE: **TBD**

INTERVIEWER NOTES: Ask him about his family.

ADDITIONAL NOTES: Knives are practically child's play at this point. You all think they're the shit too. Just aim for the throat.

* * *

NAME: Lily Baudilair

AGE: 15

DISTRICT: 9

SKILLS ASSESSED: Lily's main focus was the climbing wall and hand-to-hand combat. She was also very interested in many of the throwing-based weapons, such as knives, darts, and axes.

OVERALL ASSESSMENT: Lily is one of two volunteers this year, although we're still not sure why. She appears to be very daring and reckless, so it's important that she doesn't rush into danger without noticing her surroundings first.

SCORE: **TBD**

INTERVIEWER NOTES: Ask about the elephant in the room. She'll likely tell you why.

ADDITIONAL NOTES: Lily's history does not raise enough concern to do an investigation.

* * *

NAME: Red Belmont

AGE: 15

DISTRICT: 10

SKILLS ASSESSED: Red spent time practising hand-to-hand combat and edible plants, fire starting, and shelter building. He also appears to have a preference for ranged weapons, such as spears, crossbows and javelins.

OVERALL ASSESSMENT: Ranged weapons sound appealing due to the distance thing, but I've seen how tricky they can be, so Red's aim better be on point. Like a few other tributes, he seems to be only allied with his district partner.

SCORE: **TBD**

INTERVIEWER NOTES: Safe bet to talk to about anything.

ADDITIONAL NOTES: Hey, as long as you don't give yourself an arrow to the knee...

* * *

NAME: Argen DeAquilla

AGE: 18

DISTRICT: 10

SKILLS ASSESSED: Argen spent a lot of time practising how to build a shelter and a couple of basic traps. In terms of weapons, the only one he was seen using were throwing knives.

OVERALL ASSESSMENT: I'm not entirely sure I see the strategy in pairing district partners that use throwing knives and spears, when so many other tributes appear to want to contrast each other. Argen has had a very nervous and unconfident demeanour the whole time and is clearly very shy. In comparison to the way Red bounces all over the place...

SCORE: **TBD**

INTERVIEWER NOTES: Please stay away from his transition or home life unless he chooses to bring it up himself.

ADDITIONAL NOTES: You need the drive, kid. The motivation. Or you're basically just letting them kill you.

* * *

NAME: Weller Worthen

AGE: 18

DISTRICT: 11

SKILLS ASSESSED: The only weapons Weller was seen using were knives and swords. He also spent some time at the edible plants, knots, and fire starting stations. He didn't seem too interested in the last two.

OVERALL ASSESSMENT: As someone with past combat experience but clearly not in the best mental state, Weller is worth keeping an eye on. He may prove to be a huge threat in the arena, but with his very clear rebel ties, I still have a decision to make.

SCORE: **TBD**

INTERVIEWER NOTES: Let him decide for himself what he wants to share.

ADDITIONAL NOTES: Absolutely disgraceful. The Capitol would never stand for the use of child soldiers the way the rebels do.

* * *

NAME: Acacia Hazeldine

AGE: 14

DISTRICT: 11

SKILLS ASSESSED: Acacia spent a majority of her time practising most of the survival stations, including edible plants, shelter building, and fire starting. She also appears to prefer ranged weapons, such as spears and the bow and arrow.

OVERALL ASSESSMENT: Acacia seems to be taking things much more seriously than her two alliance members. Maybe she's okay with it, maybe she's hoping she won't feel like they're dragging her down. But things won't turn out well for her if one person needs to do the work of three people.

SCORE: **TBD**

INTERVIEWER NOTES: Ask her about her home life.

ADDITIONAL NOTES: So...who's getting backstabbed first?

* * *

NAME: Stryker Ember

AGE: 15

DISTRICT: 12

SKILLS ASSESSED: Stryker repeatedly jumped from station to station multiple times over the course of the training session. Ey only seemed to spend a few minutes at each station.

OVERALL ASSESSMENT: If ey have actually managed to retain the information ey've learned, I'd be surprised. Ey is also the oldest, and shortest, member of eir alliance. Stryker seems to want to act as the guardian of the younger tributes.

SCORE: **TBD**

INTERVIEWER NOTES: You can probably ask em about anything, but you might have to reign em in.

ADDITIONAL NOTES: My goodness, kid...

* * *

NAME: Clair Ivory

AGE: 15

DISTRICT: 12

SKILLS ASSESSED: Clair spent most of their time sorting edible plants, noticeably pointing out all the poisonous ones. They also practised other survival stations. It is worth mentioning they were never seen once using any traditional weapons.

OVERALL ASSESSMENT: Clair's lack of an attempt to try out traditional weapons may bite them in the butt later, unless they turn out to be really good with poison. They haven't really interacts with anyone, keeping to themself the whole time. This might be a strategy to keep a target off their back, or simply just being a wallflower.

SCORE: **TBD**

INTERVIEWER NOTES: You might have to try really hard to pry any information out of them.

ADDITIONAL NOTES: Staying in the shadows. Smart.

* * *

"Virgo...what are you doing?"

Virgo jumped, nearly knocking over the chair and some of the papers to the floor. "oh...Dad, I..."  
"This is private information. And none of your concern."

"Right...I'll just..."

Taurus set his coffee down on the table, ever so carefully. "Run along now. I still have work to do."  
"I have an idea of who might get what score. Do you wanna hear-"  
"Goodnight, Virgo."

Virgo sighed, heading upstairs to her room. She could hear her father settling back into his chair, gently sipping his coffee. The papers rustled as he sifted through them, placing them back on the table and turning to his laptop. Vcould hear him typing away; he was always so loud whenever he was working.

But down here, she had already overstayed her welcome. Virgo headed back upstairs, figuring she could find something better to do in her room.

* * *

 **Alright, here's this story's version of Private Sessions. plus some Gamemaker snark because Taurus is a little bored of doing the same thing 24 times. At least nobody's asking him to write a SYOT.**

 **I have a new story out! It's called Hearts of Glass and Gold and I'd really appreciate it if you checked it out, and maybe submitted a tribute or two! Also, for TMH check-ins, the question is back in Chapter 22, if you still need to answer it.**

 **Scores will be revealed next chapter, so I'll see you all there!**

 **-Vr**


	24. Score Reveal: Playing With Fire

**I am still missing check-ins for the following tributes:**

 **Toren Kollath (also missing check-in 1)**  
 **Bellona Pierce (also missing check-in 1)**  
 **Gear Griswald (also missing check-in 1)**  
 **Astrid Balan (also missing check-in 1)**  
 **Haruhi Maki (also missing check-in 1)**  
 **Corbyn Reid (also missing check-in 1)**  
 **Amelia Williams (also missing check-in 1)**  
 **Charles Thomson**  
 **Zilla Odbody (also missing check-in 1)**  
 **Darra Delaney (also missing check-in 1)**  
 **Twill Chintz (also missing check-in 1)**  
 **Lily Baudilair (also missing check-in 1)**  
 **Red Bellmont (also missing check-in 1)**  
 **Clair Ivory (also missing check-in 1)**

 **Please send the author's note at the end of Chapter 22 for the second check-in question and Chapter 15 for the first check-in question. You can send the answers to me either via PM or by DM on** **Discord.**

* * *

 _Gear Griswald, 12_  
 _District 3 Male_

* * *

After all the training he had done in the past three days, Gear was glad to have today off. He spent the day lounging around, watching TV, and eating snacks, until the scores of the tributes were announced in the late afternoon. All his allies were apparently too busy doing the same thing to meet up with him and talk.

He was still nervous about the whole "getting graded a score based off the skills he showed off to the Gamemakers" thing. Mark assured him he'd be fine. "Don't worry, Gear. The scores usually don't mean a lot. Trust me, they're not that important in the long run."

Astrid rolled her eyes. "Then what's even the point anyways?"  
"Well, it's to...uh...actually, I really don't know."

Astrid began fidgeting around on the couch she was lying across, kicking a pillow onto the floor. Mark just watched her, then shook his head. "That's not going to work on me."  
"Just one really, really really small drink. I promise, that's it."  
"I said no."  
"Pleaseeeeee?"

Mark's eyes narrowed. "I'm the mentor here, and I told you, no alcohol. There's juice and milk in the fridge if you're thirsty."  
"Buncha hard asses," Astrid muttered to herself, picking up the fallen pillow and clutching it to her chest, pouting at Mark the whole time. He didn't even flinch. Gear sympathized; he too was getting a little tired of his district partner's antics. They were only funny once in a while.

On the TV, there was a lot of talk about sponsoring and how it would work for interested Capitolites. It wasn't that big of a deal, since he couldn't do anything about it, but Gear couldn't look away. What if nobody wanted to sponsor him? What if someone sent all of his allies a bunch of knives so they could team up and stab him to death? What if he was sent a bottle of poison that he ended up drinking?

Or maybe...if he got really lucky...would someone dare to send all the cool weapons to him? he might have to let his allies mooch off of him, but if he ended up being really popular with the sponsors, that would be awesome. Gear just watched the faces of all the tributes slowly flash onto the screen.

He was getting a little antsy, here in this really cushy armchair. But they could be announcing the scores at any moment and he wanted to see what he earned. Astrid was starting to get bored as well. But then again, from what Gear had observed, patience was not exactly her strongest virtue. To be fair, it wasn't his either.

All that time he spent, studying plants and throwing knives, what exactly would it get him? Gear started clutching his hands together as the program on the television shifted. A nicely dressed woman, who gear recognized as the lady that did interviews with the tributes, began to read the scores from the paper she was holding in an upbeat but formal tone.

"From District 1, Stravos Brodie has earned a score of...Five!"

"From District 1, Elise Starbright has also earned a score of...Five!"

From District 2, Toren Kollath with a score of...Eight!"

"Also from District 2, Bellona Pierce with a score of...Seven!"

"From District 3, Gear Griswald with a score of...Five!"

"From District 3, Astrid Balan has earned a score of...Four!"

Astrid nearly toppled off the couch. "Four!? That's it!?"  
Mark sighed. "Well, what did you do?"  
"Literally the exact same shit as anyone else! Why am I scored so low!?"

A five. Five. Gear wasn't sure how he felt about that. It was...good, right? Not that high, but not too low. Yeah, maybe it was pretty good. He wasn't going to complain, unlike Astrid who just buried her face into her pillow, seething. A part of him thought it would've been called to get something really high, though.

But those District 2 kids got sevens and eights and they were pretty unnerving.

"And from District 4, Haruhi Maki with a score of...Five!"

"From District 4, Adella Kerrick has earned a score of...Five!"

"From District 5, Corbyn Reid with a score of...Five!"

"And Amelia Williams of District 5 has scored a...Four!"

Gear winced slightly. Poor, poor Amelia. That had to suck for her. He hoped she took it well. And that his other allies got as high as him.

"From District 6, Charles Thomson has scored a...Six!"

"Also from District 6, Zilla Odbody with a score of...Five!"

"They always hand out fives like candy," Mark said and Gear nodded along. Already, over half the scores he had seen were the same as his. He couldn't help but feel that his own score was not as special as he thought and all those weapons he had thrown may not have actually been enough.

Now what?

* * *

 _Veles Dragomir, 17_  
 _District 7 Male_

* * *

"Next up, from District 7, Veles Dragomir with a...Five!"

Darra whistled. "Damn dude. Everybody's getting a five today."  
"Yeah." Veles just snapped his fingers in shame. Fuck. He thought he'd get at least a little credit for trying out every station, but clearly, the Gamemakers didn't care at all. A five. A measly five. So many others already had a five!

"From District 7, Darra Delaney with a score of...Six!"

"From District 8, Twill Chintz has scored a...Six!"

"From District 8, Claodis Omicron with a score of...Five!"

"And from District 9, we have Cleveland Garfield with a score of...Five!"

"From District 9, Lily Baudilair has scored a...Five!"

The nutcase volunteer and the little kid from 9 both got the same score as him. Plus that 12 year-old from 3 and that one girl from 6 who always seemed a little...off. How? Were the Gamemakers out to get him? What for? Why did he even care what the Capitol thought of him anyways?

"From District 10, Red Belmont with a score of...Five!"

"And Argen DeAquilla of District 10 with a...Four!"

"From District 11, Weller Worthen has scored a...Seven!"

"And also from 11, Acacia Hazeldine with a score of...Five!"

"From District 12, Stryker Ember with a score of...Three."

"And finally, Clair Ivory of District 12 scores a... Four."

Okay. So maybe things could have been a little worse. Unlike that kid from 12, Veles actually had the patience to stay at a station long enough to practice his skills. And despite it all, falling somewhere in the middle wasn't too bad. There had to be a way to utilize this.

Somehow, Darra and her both of her allies did rather well. And she was clearly pleased with the results. "I knew Weller had it in him. Two sixes and a seven isn't so bad, I suppose. We can work with this."  
"Sponsors," Veles whispered.  
"Yeah." Darra made a face. "Gotta convince a bunch of stupid Capitolites you actually love them."

 _She gets it,_ Veles thought to himself. Did he trust his district partner? Oh hell no. They may have been in the same boat, but there was a good chance Darra was willing to drown him if it meant her own survival. Veles would do it if he was her. But he liked her attitude. She was no-nonsense and knew what had to be done.

Even if neither of them really wanted to suck up to the Capitol.

Darra slid off the couch. "Well, see you tomorrow, Veles."  
"Where are you going?"  
"To the roof."

That wasn't a problem for him. And since Allegro had gone straight to bed once the scores were over, Veles pretty much had the whole floor to himself. Plus, there were Avoxes all over the place willing to serve his every need. Not too shabby.

He headed into his room, where there was a card waiting on his bed, asking him if he'd like to order any food. Veles ran a finger across the top of the card, before writing down an order for a protein shake, as well as what he wanted in it. He then slipped the card under his door, as per instructions.

While he waited, Veles decided to take a quick shower. By the time he was done and dressed in a robe, the shake was sitting on a desk right next to his bed. Veles took a few sips, before sprawling out on his bed. He had left his window open to let some fresh air in, but he could also hear the faintest of voices.

Lying on a cool bed with nobody around to bother him gave Veles plenty of time to have all sorts of thoughts swirling around in his head. As the voices outside got louder and eventually started laughing, he couldn't help but feel a little lonely.

But he wasn't here to make friends anyways.

He thought of District 7, his home, and the mess he left behind there. Perun was left to figure out what happened to their sister. It wasn't right of Veles to just up and leave him alone, not like he had any say in the matter anyways.

So, the sooner he won, the sooner he could go back home. That was the plan. And admittedly, Veles was not in the best position right now. He had nobody trust, nobody he could trust, and a measly five for a training score.

And he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with it all.

* * *

 **A bit of a quieter chapter, mainly because the only action is the reveal of the scores. Did any of the scores surprise you? Did any of them _not_ surprise you?**

 **Next up is gonna be the interviews, which will divided into two parts for my own sanity lol. So see you all in thsoe chapters!**

 **-Vr**


	25. Interviews Pt 1: Painted Smiles

**I am still missing check-ins for the following tributes:**

 **Toren Kollath (also missing check-in 1)**  
 **Bellona Pierce (also missing check-in 1)**  
 **Gear Griswald (also missing check-in 1)**  
 **Astrid Balan (also missing check-in 1)**  
 **Haruhi Maki (also missing check-in 1)**  
 **Corbyn Reid (also missing check-in 1)**  
 **Amelia Williams (also missing check-in 1)**  
 **Charles Thomson**  
 **Zilla Odbody (also missing check-in 1)**  
 **Darra Delaney (also missing check-in 1)**  
 **Twill Chintz (also missing check-in 1)**  
 **Lily Baudilair (also missing check-in 1)**  
 **Red Bellmont (also missing check-in 1)**  
 **Clair Ivory (also missing check-in 1)**

 **Please send the author's note at the end of Chapter 22 for the second check-in question and Chapter 15 for the first check-in question. You can send the answers to me either via PM or by DM on** **Discord.**

* * *

 _Toren Kollath, 17_  
 _District 2 Male_

* * *

Bellona cackled as she stared down Toren's outfit. "Ew, what an ugly suit."  
"I think it makes me look refined.  
"I think it makes you look stupid."

Toren rolled his eyes. "It's the blush. I asked my stylist to tone down the makeup. Of course she didn't listen."  
"That certainly explains the clown aesthetic."  
"Stay classy, Pierce."

She was only joking, of course. And despite how nice the suit felt, Toren didn't mind slamming the more ridiculous parts of his outfit either. Plus the powdery makeup caked onto his face, which made him want to sneeze. The pros and cons of dressing up.

And in just a few minutes, the interviews would start.

"You nervous?" Toren asked Bellona, who was busy smoothing down her skirt. "I kinda am..."  
"Nah. I feel fine."  
"You sure?"

Bellona brushed a loose strand of hair from her face. "Hey, don't worry about me. Only I need to worry about me. Looks like they're starting."

Elise was the first one up, wearing a beige dress that draped behind her on the floor and was decorated in gold floral patterns. She smiled the whole time, with a charming and confident aura to her as she tilted her head and giggle at the rights time, to the audience's adoration. Thankfully, she was clear to mention her alliance, and how confident she was in their abilities.

Bellona giggled. "She's got them all eating out of her hand."  
"Here's to hoping she can convince everyone to sponsor us."

Stravos's suit was a pale golden colour, making his dark black tie stand out rather well. he crossed his legs and folded his arms behind his head, grinning the whole time. And as expected, he shrugged off all concerns about his lack of an alliance.

"You know what, it's their loss. I'm not trying to make threats here and tell them to watch their backs or anything, but that's exactly what I'm saying. And I mean it. They want to dump their hand for a new one? Shouldn't have messed with the king of cards!"

 _Damn,_ Toren thought to himself. _He's good._

"Knock 'em dead," Toren whispered as Bellona strolled out in a sea foam green dress that trailed behind her and was studded in little crystals. The second she sat down, Bellona's morphed into an intimidating scowl, one that would surely paint her as someone to be feared. Bellona slowly told the crowd about the ten different ways she knew to carve up someone's face with a knife, which she was more than willing to do if it meant her victory.

As the crowd hollered, Toren nervously shoved his hands into his pockets. It was time. He walked up onto the stage, briefly shielding his eyes from the blinding lights as the cheers got louder and louder and...wow.  
He had to give them a good show. He had to be confident. Now was not the time for weakness.

He heard someone mention the word volunteer. They wanted to know why he volunteered. Yeah, he could tell them that, right?

"Well, I volunteered...for the honour! The glory! It just gives me such a rush and I want to do my family proud! I've prepared for this moment for a few years now and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to win. It's expected of me after all."

The crowd was silent. Then they started to clap. The noise got louder and louder and finally, when those three minutes were up, he could feel himself relax as he left the stage, waving one last goodbye. It was as if a huge weight had suddenly been lifted form his shoulders.

Belloan gave him a punch in the shoulder as he sat down next to her. "Not too shabby. I think they liked you."  
"I hope they liked me."

Astrid was up next, wearing a short dark green evening gown, complete with tall golden heels. She just oozed of confidence, giggling at all of her own jokes and brushing off any concerns about her, such as her age or her lack of care about the situation around her. Astrid just leaned back and sighed. "Aw man. I can't wait to have a nice stiff drink when this all blows over."

In the front row, Toren bit his lip to keep from bursting with laughter as the camera zoomed in on Mark Giblet's red face.

The green of Gear's suit easily matched his district partner's dress, but with a faint black number pattern on it. He seemed nervous, but relaxed a lot more once he was finally seated. He talked a lot about his intelligence and his school grades, which he joked made all his classmates jealous.

"Yeah, I know, I kinda sound like the token nerd from District 3. Hopefully, that'll take my alliance far. Not like I'm making fun of them, but we all have something to contribute and I contributed my brain."

Just like that, an entire quarter of interviews had flown by. Toren was just happy to be done with his. He pulled off his tie, opened up his suit a little, and relaxed. Bellona and Elise just giggled watching him, but he didn't mind. Stravos and the District 3 pair ignored him.

It could've gone a lot worse. But people seemed happy with him. He'd be a hard name to forget now.

Now, he just had to see what the remaining tributes had up their sleeves.

* * *

 _Charles Thomson, 16_  
 _District 6 Male_

* * *

Not only was he the first of his alliance to walk up on that stage, his interview would be followed by a quick intermission as the audience got restless. The pressure was on; Charles had to stand out no matter what.

He could do that, right? He could just talk about his passions. Nobody was bound to forget the boy so enamoured with toxicology. But sandwiched between his rather odd district partner and his ally who had lost her younger brother, his odds suddenly took a huge plummet.

Adella was up next, in a short and frilly light blue dress with a sweetheart neckline. Charles thought she smiled an awful lot and was very chatty. Adella talked quite a bit about her home life, her father, and his shop. Occasionally, Adella told everyone, she helped out with restoring the trinkets, which really boosted her creativity.

Her district partner was wearing a simple black suit over a slightly wrinkled white dress shirt. Haruhi was much less talkative than Adella and was leaning very far back in his seat. Charles wasn't sure whether he would fall out of the chair or fall asleep. He didn't seem too bothered with his current situation, as he wanted to take life one step at a time. He talked a bit about his friends and family back home as the audience let out a collective _aww_.

Darra snickered. "We got the bar kicked down for us."  
"Sorry, Darra. I'm just trying to focus here."  
"You'll be fine. Everyone loves a mad scientist."

Charles wasn't so sure about that.

Amelia scurried up onstage in an all black suit and a bright red tie. She instantly hid her eyes behind her bright red hair, shying away from the lights above her. Every question was met with a small answer composed of no more than two words, usually with the volume of a squeak.

It had to be an act. Charles had seen the girl in training. She had no problem sassing off her allies at all.

He couldn't help but roll his eyes at Corbyn's outfit. The guy had a freaking leather jacket on, the skinniest black jeans Charles had ever seen, and a long fake-ass clip on earring dangling from his right ear. Yeah, like Corbyn of all people was the perfect guy for this "bad boy" image his stylists must've generated on the spot.

Well, in Charles's mind, he was a massive prick. So maybe he could pull it off quite well.

Despite all the leather and tight pants, Corbyn was completely silent. He just folded his hands on his lap and sat there, staring off into space, before he was overtaken by a sudden coughing and hiccuping fit. As much as he wanted to laugh, Charles also wanted to slap the guy upside the head. Why the hell wasn't Corbyn using this interview to his advantage!?

"What a train wreck," Darra sighed.  
"Tell me about it."  
"I thought you hated him."

"Well, he is my district partner's ally, so I hope he doesn't drag her down," Charles mutter through clenched teeth. Zilla quickly turned around to face him, before an Avox pointed her towards the stage, then shoved her up the steps.

Zilla was wearing a tight black pencil skirt and a frilly white blouse. Her hair was piled on top of her head and completely out of her face. She answered her questions bluntly in a monotone voice, but the crowd didn't seem to mind. And it all seemed to be going smoothly until...

"Want to know what I think of the Capitol?" Zilla asked. "Well, for starters, there's a lot to see and do here. I find it quite interesting, although I do believe you could've handled the war and all the fighting much more effectively. And your games are quite barbaric. Disgusting. It's a shame that they taint a lot of the positive aspects of your culture in my honest opinion."

There were a couple nervous laughs and some genuine ones, as if Zilla's statement was little more than a joke. Was it a joke? She looked so sure of herself, but Charles had always found her incredibly difficult to read. However, he spotted the famous Snow family sitting in a balcony across from the stage, staring down at him.

The President looked furious.

Charles would have three minutes and one interview to save things.

His deep blue suit was pretty soft and comfortable and the lighter sky-coloured tie helped complete the look, then he thought that white stripes on his pants were pretty silly. The whole scheme fit someone from District 4 instead. Ah well, he wasn't complain. Didn't have time to. He needed to be onstage right now.

Yep, not hard. Not a hard job at all!

 _Ughhhhh..._

Charles just smiled and allowed himself to relax a little. He cracked a few jokes about his nerves, the serious atmosphere surrounding the stage, and about his alliance. But just kidding, he loved Darra and Weller. They were awesome. Weller provided the brute force, Darra the slashing skills of a lumberjack, and him? Oh...just toxins.

"But they're just so exciting, you know? It's toxicology, I love toxicology! It's a science, and you can do so much with it. You could study what different substances are made of, or how people react to them. That last part's really interesting, because you'll know how to treat someone who gets exposed to something that-"

A loud buzzer rudely interrupted him. It was a shame that Charles couldn't have gone on any longer. But still he made it to the end, and it was all over for him.

And with still half of the interviews left to go, there was bound to be a lot more to watch.

* * *

 **One half of the interviews done! Yeah, I have to break them in half to make them much more manageable. But we've got quite some fun interviews here. Should the Careers heed Stravos's threat? Was Zilla condemning the Capitol a smart move? Did Charles do a good job as the last interview of this chapter? Who gave Corbyn a leather jacket?**

 **And with three chapters left before the big day, I can happily announce that the Bloodbath will be coming out in August! We're much close than it seems!**

 **So yeah, now that the Games themselves are not too far away, thanks for all the support so far! For submitters, it's obviously not mandatory and I don't base my Victor pickings one hundred percent off of reviews and check-in submissions, but I won't give the Victor to someone who's been completely absent since the story started. I don't think it's fair to everyone else. But a little review once in a while, either detailing your thoughts or just mentioning some stuff you liked about the chapter is nice to see. :3**

 **Next chapter, we'll be seeing the other half of interviews with Twill and Red. Stay tuned for that!**

 **-Vr**


	26. Interviews Pt 2: Spotlights

**Just a reminder to send in check-ins if you haven't already! The two questions can be found in Chapters 15 and 22. Please PM them to me, or DM me on Discord to submit your answers.**

* * *

 _Twill Chintz, 16_  
 _District 8 Male_

* * *

"How do I look?"  
"Very handsome, Twill. Very handsome."

Claodis giggled as Twill ran a hand through his hair. It was nice to have a prep team that knew to enhance his face, rather than just cake makeup on top. Besides, how the hell could one person own so much anyways? In District 8, some really nice, high quality blush would've cost him his entire left foot.

He smoothed out his tux one last time to rid himself of any wrinkles. it wouldn't be much longer until it was time for his own interview.

"I miss my friends so much," Claodis suddenly said to nobody in particular. "I didn't think I would, but I've never been away from them for so long before."  
"Well, that's all the more reason to win, right?"  
"That is true! I'm so excited for my interview!"

Twill laughed nervously. "I'm glad to hear that."

The audience clapped politely as Darra gracefully walked across the stage in a long simple emerald green gown. Her hair was all pinned up on top of her head, revealing the low cut back of her dress. Darra twirled a little, clearly satisfied with her dress.

But upon sitting down, Darra's starstruck grin became a small, sly one. She rarely spoke at all, but when she did, her answers were extremely vague and hardly related to the questions she was asked. Twill could tell from here that the audience was pretty annoyed.

And if Darra was quiet, Veles was practically made of stone. He wore a plain black suit with a dark brown tie and white shoes. And he could barely be heard, often mumbling one or two words under his breath. Twill really had to strain hard to catch any of it. Even the audience seemed slightly underwhelmed as Veles unceremoniously got up and walked off the stage without a word.

Claodis clapped her hands together. Twill reached out and patted her on the back. "Knock 'em dead."

His district partner walked out in a white white ballgown with puffy sleeves and lots and lots of layers of silver lace. He had to admit, it looked like the dress would soon gain sentience and swallow her whole! Claodis took a moment to find her chair, but just laughed along with the audience as she sat down.

Twill thought she did a pretty good job. Claodis really nailed that whole young and innocent vibe her dress made her pull off. She answered all her questions with a smile on her face, cracked a few jokes that got some laughs, and happily talked about her life back home. Everyone clapped once her interview was over.

Now it was his turn.

Twill was pretty satisfied with his outfit: a white tux with a black shirt and a red tie. Simple, yet elegant. Plus, he had been sprayed with a bit of perfume, and now he faintly smelled of lavender. And as he climbed onto the stage, he could already see the front rows filled with Capitolites. Some of them already seem entranced with his appearance.

Hopefully, this wouldn't be too hard.

The interview started out plain enough. Twill made some small talk about what he liked about the Capitol, the awesome food he had been served, and what his favourite dishes were; all of it was true. He answered a few questions about Claodis. Did he like being her ally? Yeah, she was sweet and fun and the two of them could easily work together. Did he have high hopes for the Games? Twill chuckled a little and gave the crowd a flirty little smirk. He decided to gloss over that one.

Then he was asked about what he did for a living back in 8. Suddenly, the idea of answering that made him really nervous.

What if everyone laughed in his face, for making a living using what little he had?

But he forced himself to straighten up and continue to smile. "Well, the term for it, as I've learned is sugar baby. I just get hired to spend the day with customers, hanging out with them and giving them a shoulder to lean on. Basically, it's like being a friend for hire. And being cute certainly doesn't hurt. With a face this good, why sell it for free?"

He caught a few disgusted reactions, but everyone else burst into laughter as he strolled off the stage. Claodis gave him a high-five. "You did awesome!"  
"Man, that felt so weird."  
"Well, aren't you glad it's over?"  
"Oh, for sure."

Lily was wearing a long sparkly lilac dress with two slits down the sides, gold laced sandals, and lots of jewellery. Under the spotlights of the stage, everything about her was shimmering. Twill just chuckled to himself faintly; she was going to be the sparkliest interview of the night.

Despite the elegance of her dress, Lily was extremely mischievous. The audience spent the entirety of her interview laughing at her jokes or wisecracks. The second she was asked why she volunteered, Twill notice Lily's grin drop and she shook a little, before forcing herself to smile again. "Well, why the hell not? It's all about the rush, baby! The thrill! The daring of it all! Nobody's as crazy to do it as me!"

Next was Lily's district partner, Cleveland. His tweed jacket, baggy black pants, and straw hat made him look like a life-size scarecrow, the poor kid. It didn't help that he seemed so scared and pitiful. Cleveland talked a lot about his family, friends, and many many siblings he had back home.

Backstage, the room was starting to clear out a little and Twill let out a large yawn that surprised even him. It wasn't that late, but there was just so much going on that sitting here was starting to get a little exhausting.

Thankfully, there were only a few more interviews left to go.

* * *

 _Red Belmont, 15_  
 _District 10 Male_

* * *

Red was not the least bit bothered by interviews.

Or dressing up.

Or crowds.

He was, however, starting to get a little annoyed with his district partner. No matter how many times Red assured Argen that a three minute interview was not the end of the world and he'd do great and it would all go to plan, the older boy seemed convinced otherwise. Also, how could someone who was already so pale have their face turn even whiter?

"Dude," Red said for like the tenth time tonight. "I'm right behind you, alright? And you'll be on and off the stage before you know it. It's gonna be so easy and everyone will love you."  
"No, they won't. I'm not as confident as everyone else! They're gonna laugh at me."  
"Oh my God, Argen-"

"Now, calling up to the stage, Argen DeAquilla!"

"Go!" Red gave his district partner a shove. Argen's tuxedo was a dark blue, complete with a gold trim. Red supposed things could've been worse; Argen cracked a few small jokes which got a few people laughing and by the time the interview was over, he was actually smiling. Both district partners felt a weight lift off their shoulders.

Good. Because now, it was Red's turn.

He really liked his suit. It was a tan colour, with dark brown stripes running down the fabric, which he thought looked really cool. And the little brown bowtie around his neck was such an awesome accessory. With an outfit this sharp, Red felt ready for a million interviews.

The questions were innocent enough. Red talked a lot about everyone back home. His parents, his brother, his sisters, his best friend. He did miss them a little bit, but he just laughed it off, assuring the audience, and mostly himself, that he'd be back home hanging out with them before he knew.

How about his alliance? Oh, just Argen. But it was all cool. Argen was kinda like that big brother Red never had, even if it did feel like the younger ally was babysitting the older one. It made Red a little nervous to see all these bigger alliances, mostly composed of tributes three to four years older than him. But he kept those fears to himself.

Argen shook his head. "I don't get how you did that. God, it's so terrifying out there."  
"What are you talking about? Everyone likes you."  
"I don't know..."

Acacia's halter dress was green, but not just any green; Red counted at least four different shades. She also had thin green silk scarves attached to her wrists and brown leather sandals. And she practically glided across the stage.

Once seated, Acacia was anything but graceful. She had no problems sharing the perils of her home life, and how difficult it was to play sister and mother all at once, with an alcoholic father, a stubborn twin, and a baby brother she needed to take care of. Red noticed that there was not a dry eye in the entire front row.

It was hard for Red to see Weller's outfit at first. It was just so...shiny. It seemed to be made out of a silvery material that reflected all the lights hitting it, sending the beams across the room. One of them blinded Red and he quickly looked away.

It soon became clear Weller had very little to share. He slowly tapped his shoe against the stage floor, folded his hands in his lap, and spoke in a quiet voice. He mentioned a few things about his allies, but deflected all questions about his home life. Red could see him slowly growing more an more annoyed, until finally, he slammed his fists against the chair. "Stop asking me! I don't want to talk about it!"

Clair clutched their hands together nervously, and Red couldn't blame them, having to go after the suddenly explosive Weller. They wore a really plain black dress that fell all the way down to their ankles with tight sleeves; Clair kept folding the edge of their sleeve. They didn't seem to care much for their outfit.

Sure enough, they were full of nerves. It was impossible to get any answers out of Clair; if it wasn't a single word response, it was them gesturing with their hands to get their point across. Their lower lip trembled the whole time. Were they going to cry? That would be so awkward, Red had no idea how he'd react to that.

Stryker was the last interview of the night. Eir outfit was pretty simple, a grey suit had a white dress shirt underneath and a bright red tie. The second ey sat down, ey began to squirm and fidget around, nearly knocking emself out of the chair.

It soon became obvious Stryker was distracted by all the lights and colours of the room, but Red thought ey did pretty well in comparison to the past two interviews. Ey had no problem going on and on about their alliance, how ey just wanted to protect eir allies, and that despite eir height, ey were not to be underestimated. The audience clapped passionately for em.

"Finally." Red loosened his bowtie. "I'm gonna go get changed."  
"It's over?" The colour returned to Argen's cheeks. "Good. I hate this."  
"I think you just hate crowds."  
"That's not true!"

"Yeah, yeah." Red laughed. "I'm going upstairs. Are you coming?"

* * *

 **Hnghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, finally interviews are over! I hate them with such a burning passion! XD**

 **Also, I'm glad to announce that I finally have a confirmed Bloodbath date for this story! Yeah, I think we're close enough for me to announce it. After all, we are only two chapters away from the big date!**

 **So with date, I proudly doth proclaim that the Too Much Heaven Bloodbath will be going up on AUGUST 1ST. I have yet to decide at which time, but I will let you know in a future chapter.**

 **Anyways, back to this chapter! Which interviews were your favourites? Which outfits were your favourites?**

 **Just another reminder to send in your check-ins if you haven't already and I'll see you all next chapter!**

 **-Vr**


	27. The Night Before: The Last Hurrah

**The night before:**

* * *

 _Lily Baudilair, 15_  
 _District 9 Female_

* * *

The fluffy pink bathrobe she was wearing practically swallowed her up. Lily wasn't exactly short, but who was she to complain? It was cozy and that was what mattered.

Though for some reason, she couldn't sleep. She was well out of adrenaline by now, and felt way too exhausted to be her usual energetic self. Lily stood out on the balcony, just listening to the hustle and bustle of the Capitolites beneath her, those little colourful ants. Heh. It was like she could just squish them from here. But she was way too tired to find that thought funny.

Because reality had just hit her, and it hit her _hard_.

Tomorrow, she could die.

Lily could easily spend training frolicking about with her allies, pretending to be blissfully unaware of the situation at hand. After all, there was so much else to do! She had to practice with weapons, prepare for interviews, hang out with Astrid as Acacia just shook her head. That was all done and well behind her.

Why the hell did she volunteer...

Lily blinked back tears, leaning on the railing. It was not worth it, so not worth it. A dare was a dare, but it never should have come this far. What did she expect!? So what her friends would make fun of her, they'd all certainly move on! She should've known better! But no, she just had to let her pride get in the way of rationality and now she was paying the price. She had dug her own grave, and there was a good chance she'd have to lie in it.

Lily's voice got caught in her throat and she let out a mangled laugh. What a way to go.

"Hey..." a small voice said behind her. "Um...are you busy?"  
"Nope."  
"Mind if I come out then?"

Lily shrugged. In her opinion, Paisley was not the...err...most sociable of mentors. The rumours about her being an absolute nutjob weren't exactly true, but the woman definitely had a few screws loose ever since she emerged from the Games. Plus, this was one of the rare times Paisley was not busy calling her fiance. Lily tried her damn best to be nice, but when it was beyond clear that her mentor couldn't comprehend the situation, there was only so much she was willing to take.

"You look nervous," Paisley said quietly.  
"What? Nope! I'm fine!"  
"Are you sure?"

"Oh yeah, I've never felt more excited in my life."  
"I wouldn't be excited if I were you."

Lily's grip on the railing was suddenly very sweaty. "Well...can you blame me?"  
"Are you certain you're okay?"  
"Yes!"

Except she wasn't. She was so scared and uncertain and so unlike Lily Baudilair she didn't know what to do with herself. Except fake it until she made it.

 _No take-backs my ass._

Paisley's shaking hands were holding a mug of tea. "Okay...but just know that I'm your mentor and I want to help you...you can come to me, right? If you're scared? We can talk and I know that...um...I haven't really been around but if you need anything...just...ask?"  
"Fine. I'll ask when I want to."

"Okay..." Paisley was quiet again, as usual. "Um...do you want to talk strategy?"  
"We already know I'm gonna run in, grab a bunch of shit for my alliance, then book it out."  
"And Astrid and Acacia know that, right?"

"If they don't they will soon."

"You're also gonna have to kill," Paisley noted. "I know it might be hard...and scary, but..."  
"I can do it."  
"Really?"

No. That was a lie. And a very risky thing to say. but Lily knew she'd have to take it. She got into this game with a risky move and that was the one way she'd get herself out. If it came down to her having to kill another tribute, how hard could it truly be? A simple knife throw would be enough. Or maybe her allies would do the dirty work for her and she could walk away with clean hands.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a phone ringing from back inside. Paisley turned red. "That might be my fiance."  
"Why is he always calling you? Can't he keep himself busy for five minutes?"  
"He just misses me."

Lily rolled her eyes. "That or he's clingy as fuck. He can wait another five minutes, right?"  
For a brief moment, Paisley went pale, but the colour slowly seeped back into her cheeks. "Yeah, I guess..."

Secretly, Lily didn't want to be alone tonight, But she'd never say that out loud. "See? We have it all planned out and I just gotta stick to it. Which I will. District 9 is gonna get another Victor these Games, and one hundred percent it will be me!"  
"I hope you know what you're doing."

Lily hoped so too.

* * *

 _Amelia Williams, 13_  
 _District 5 Female_

* * *

She wanted to laugh. "Really? You're gonna spend your last night alive reading?"  
Corbyn simply flipped to another page. "I want to keep my mind sharp and do something productive. Plus, you don't know what happens to me tomorrow."  
"Oh yeah, everybody fears the guy with the book."  
"Do you think you could leave me alone, please?"

Fine by her. She didn't hate her district partner or anything. Well, she tried not to. They were just way too different to work together. Which was a shame because some days Amelia genuinely wanted to talk to him and others, she would've laughed in his face now if something were to suddenly happen to him. He had his alliance that consisted of what he wanted, she had hers, and that was that. They were district partners and nothing more.

Stryker had invited them all up to eir floor for a last-minute get together and Amelia had to decline. She liked her alliance a lot; they were all super sweet kids and sometimes, she felt like a normal little girl around them. Except it was also stupid. They were a bunch of children, protected by a tiny 15 year-old. Nobody would ever root for them.

They were all dead men walking, weren't they.

Amelia was more than happy to change out of her suit and hop into the shower. She scrubbed off whatever smelly body lotions her prep team had coated her in, rinsed her hair of its gel, covered herself in some bubbly soaps, then washed it all away. She ran a hand through her tangled hair and suddenly she felt much more herself.

Changing into a pair of silk pyjamas, she flopped backwards onto her bed and felt her head sink into the pillows, leaving behind a clear indent. She stared up at the ceiling. It was a boring white colour, all smooth and plain and lacking any personality whatsoever. Nothing ever like her bedroom at home, which was full of her stuff that said a lot about her. This boring room had one purpose; to serve the eight girls that came before her, and many more afterwards. Probably.

Did she stand a chance? Pffffffft. Maybe tomorrow, if she was feeling much better and managed to survive the initial carnage, Amelia would entertain that possibility a little. But come on! She was thirteen years old. In a game that heavily relied on a bunch of teenagers killing each other. Hell, there were some who even volunteered for this shit! Were the odds any way in her favour?

Ha! Fat chance!

If she stayed quiet enough, she could just briefly hear Corbyn flip another page of his book. Then another. And another. And another one.

Then there was a knock on the door.

"Hey Amelia?"  
"Go away."  
"We'd like to do one last examination."

God, ever since she arrived in the Capitol, these stupid doctors and therapists and whatnot would not leave her alone. They just wanted to check up on her, maybe her last diagnosis was wrong, blah, blah, blah, blah! Oh yeah, they totally cared for her! They wanted to help! Didn't she want help!

She wanted help from people who cared. From her mother and brother. Who would offer it when they knew she wanted it. Not some strange man with blue hair in a white coat and coasted glasses that wouldn't let her see his eyes.

Why did they even care anyways? Because she was a tribute? Where were the "professionals" when she was an eleven year-old girl?

"Come on, it's our job to help-"  
"I asked you to leave me alone."  
"But-"

Amelia stormed into the bathroom, slammed the door behind her, then flushed the toilet, pulling the lever down as hard as she possibly could. She also made sure to flip on the fan, and sudden noise drowning out the voices outside her door until eventually, they all went away.

Amelia sat down on the soft bathroom mat, curling her knees as close as she could to her chest. The toilet finally stopped and after a few minutes, she had to turn off the fan, it was just...too much. Loud. Made it hard to think.

Maybe she just needed to sleep. Even if tomorrow was not going to be a good day for anyone involved, it was inevitable after all. It wouldn't hurt to get a few extra hours of rest because who knew when she'd have a good night sleep again? Besides, she wasn't doing herself any favours here, hanging out in a bathroom.

Amelia finally stood up and opened the door. Nobody was there.

* * *

 _Haruhi Maki, 18_  
 _District 4 Male_

* * *

"Should we go over strategy one more time?" Dell asked. "You know, to make sure we don't forget?"  
"You didn't forget already, did you?"  
"Of course not. Double checking never hurt anyone."

Haruhi shrugged, leaning back on one of the throw pillows that decorated the couch. "If we keep reviewing the plans, we'll just make ourselves more nervous. I trust you and I know you're not just gonna blindly throw yourself into a risky situation."  
"I'm not gonna do that."  
Exactly."

"Okay then," Dell yawned. "Wow, I'm tired. Aren't you?"  
"Not really."

"Oh..." Dell yawned again, but didn't move from her spot across from Haruhi. "Maybe we should to bed soon."  
"Eventually. When I feel like it."  
"Fjord probably wouldn't want us staying up too late."

"Are you nervous?" Haruhi suddenly asked. "For some strange reason, I actually don't feel that nervous."  
"Of course I'm nervous. I'm scared. And worried. But you're not?"  
"Not to the level I should be."

Dell seemed confused so Haruhi decided to try and explain it, hoping it sounded better than the way it did in his head. "We know our fates by now. We've had ample time to prepare and get used to it. Obviously, we're not just gonna roll over and die. But what more can we do?"  
"Other than try our best? I wanna see my dad again."

Haruhi wanted to see his family too. And Clare. He missed her, but way more than he missed their relationship. That was done and over with and they were still friends, at least. He had already moved on. And there was tons of other girls for him to hang out with. They weren't Clare, but they were different, in a good way of course! No two girls were the same. He had a different relationship with each of them?

Maybe, if he did manage to win, he could give romance one last try? Clare probably wouldn't mind, would he?

"Shouldn't you two be asleep?" Fjord was back. "Well, I know that tomorrow is going to be really scary, but when you're on your guard all the time, you'll be surprised at how much you took sleep for granted. Trust me."

Haruhi shrugged. "We were just talking."  
"About what?"  
"Strategy and the like."  
"I see."

"Well, I'm going to bed." Dell stood up. "Goodnight."  
"Goodnight, Dell."

Fjord watched her go, then turn back to Haruhi. "Do you want to talk to me or something? About whatever on your mind?"  
"I'm just thinking about home, mainly. That's pretty much it. Any last advice?"

"What kind of advice, aside from the ever typical 'don't get yourself killed' and 'don't get too attached to your ally' and the like? Oh, and the sponsors. Yeah, I guess don't piss them off. Or else they won't send me the money I need to keep you alive."  
"Is the whole not getting attached thing really such a big deal? Dell and I work great together."

Fjord coughed and for a split second, Haruhi saw a light red tinge to his cheeks. "Yeah, you'd be surprised. Teenage me was not very good at following my own advice. Still isn't to this day. Damn flawed coping mechanisms."

Haruhi laughed. "Flawed coping mechanisms; that's funny. Well, alrighty. I think I got this. So don't piss anybody off and keep yourself alive. I can do that." He finally got up as one of the pillows tumbled off the couch behind him.  
"See you tomorrow then, Haruhi."  
"Yeah. See you tomorrow."

* * *

Zilla Odbody, 16  
District 6 Female

* * *

Charles had gone off to go talk to his allies, leaving Zilla by herself. Maybe she could go find Corbyn, but she didn't really have anything important to tell him. Besides, she'd be seeing him again tomorrow in the arena.

Now that was rather morbid.

Did she hate that she was in this situation? Oh yes, more than it showed. She was beyond terrified and worried for tomorrow, because so much could go wrong is so little time. Even if, like most dire situations, it didn't show on her face.

Sometimes, that made her feel like her emotions were less valid. She didn't cry and scream like her mother or sister at the Reaping, even though it hurt her to accept this fate. She felt bad for her family, but what more could she do?

Sometimes, getting upset got nobody anywhere. Zilla wouldn't be able to think straight and rationally otherwise.

Then there was that whole interview fiasco; Zilla's mentor had made it pretty clear that she had more or less fucked up. Harsh, but she didn't get the point. Zilla had been asked about her opinion of the Capitol and she provided one. Ask a stupid question, get a stupid answer. What exactly was she supposed to do? Lie through her teeth?

"Consider yourself very lucky if you stay alive for the next 24 hours, girl," her stylist had told her when helping her get changed out of her interview outfit. "Because you just made some really powerful enemies with those words."

Yeah, that didn't help.

A door slammed and Zilla glanced up to see Charles pull off his suit jacket and run a hand through his sweaty hair, messing it all up. "Oh. Hey Zilla."  
"Hello Charles."  
"You don't want to chat with your ally?"

"I have nothing to say to him that can't be said another time." Zilla sat back down on the couch, hands holding across her lap. Charles was pretty nice, although he was often off doing his own thing while she did hers. That being said, she had picked up a few poison dart tips from him and hopefully his allies would leave her alone come the arena.

But if it really came down to it, she'd easily leave him hanging to save her own skin. Cold and harsh, but a necessary evil. She already knew that for her to win, she'd have to let him and everyone else die. And she wanted that victory, not for the title but for the prize of actually surviving and going back home. That was just the way the Games went, despite how disgusting of a truth it was.

Could she kill him herself? On purpose? Ah...well...she'd cross that bridge if she ever stumbled upon it. That was a question for another time.

"What did you and your allies talk about?"  
Charles shrugged. "It's not that important. Why?"  
"I'm just attempting small talk."

"I see. Is it fair that I don't really want to share?"  
"I suppose so."

Charles raised an eyebrow. _Very expressive,_ Zilla thought. She could probably do that, but it just looked very silly and would accomplish nothing. She plucked some lint off of her light grey pyjama shirt, finally glad to be out of that tight skirt and stupid frilly blouse. Ugh. Formal clothing was just so impractical. What was even the point?

Her district partner just nodded towards her. "I'm gonna go to sleep. Goodnight Zilla." His voice was slightly shakier than normal.  
Zilla didn't respond and just watched him go. Eventually, she got up as well.

She didn't really like her bedroom; it lacked the familiarity of home. The bed was just too soft and too big. It practically swallowed her whole. She missed the firmness of her mattress back in 6, the occasional dust in the air when she'd wake up to find Koia next to her, back when the girls actually seemed to get along.

Did Koia miss her?

Did she want her big sister back?

Would she even refer to Zilla as her sister, or just as a robot, too numb to comprehend everything and everyone else?

Zilla just lay still, listening to her soft breathing, the creaking of the floorboards and the distant noises that penetrated through the glass of her window. A small tear slipped out of her eye and rolled down the side of her face before leaving behind a tiny stain on the pillowcase.

* * *

 **Angst time owo**

 **I thought I had addressed sponsoring prior to this, but I guess not so I'll do it here. Yes, there is sponsoring open for this story, both for submitters and readers who have no tribute. I don't have a very rigid system, but come the arena, you're allowed to send a maximum of two gifts per chapter through PM or DM on Discord. Each gift can only be sent to one tribute and depending on what you send, it may count as multiple gifts if it's either a really big item, or something that is extremely valuable and might end up turning the tides of the arena. Sponsoring will open in two chapters, after the Bloodbath.**

 **We have one more chapter after this before the big day finally arrives! So if you haven't sent your check-ins yet, please get them to me soon! The check-in questions can be found in Chapter 15 and Chapter 22.**

 **See you all next chapter!**

 **-Vr**


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